Supernatural: Walking the Edge
by Paulathe Cat
Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester are investigating what could be witches. They may get information on another player in the supernatural conflict over their world. No slash. Violence, language, Season 6 Spoilers
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: Dean and Sam are investigating what could be witches. They may get information on another player in the supernatural conflict over their world. No slash.

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and the Voynich Manuscript are not mine. Druids and the Manuscript are real, but I have taken creative license (and how) with their history, meaning and purpose.

Season 6 SPOILERS, Language and violence will be depicted.

**Author's Note**- My husband brought my attention to an article he was reading about "The most mysterious document in the world". It was about the Voynich Manuscript and it stirred all kinds of crazy ideas in me. I did some research and there are competing and conflicting ideas about what it is and what it means. The Manuscript was carbon dated as being from the mid 1400's to the mid 1500's. The 240 vellum pages have writing that can't be decoded and pictures of plants and constellations, many of which cannot be identified. The Manuscript is currently located at Beineke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale.

I know that Druids were much earlier than the VM by hundreds of years (mid to late 7th century), but I could see how many of the hypothesized subject matter of the VM related to things people might have connected to them. Draiocht are magical spells. Druidic "magic" observes nature and the natural world. Depending on where the druids originated, they were considered the Seers, teachers, bards, diplomats, magicians/sorcerers (think Merlin) and Healers among Druidic orders. Druids were very interested in maintaining a natural order. They practiced their rituals in stands of ancient woodlands. For modern Druids, I apologize in advance. I have taken license here. I welcome information, but I am not likely to change how I perceive the world in which I plop my characters.

The "Natural Order" has been a recurring theme in Supernatural and Death (the Horseman) really drove the point home with Dean in Season 6 episode 11, "Appointment in Samarra". I think these things just scream at me to weave them together in fiction. I hope you enjoy the read.

Kinna is a bastardation and feminization of the Gaelic name Cian (Keen) meaning "Ancient".

**Chapter One**

The night concealed little from the brightly lit streets, but as Kinna moved outside the populated area, the ambient light diminished. Her car travelled out of the village and rambled along the countryside road shrouded in blackness toward the forest. The headlamps illuminated the road for only a few feet as the fog rolled in casting the light back, making a wall of white rise in front of her. She scanned the roadside until she found a particular landmark that marked a car park. She pulled the car off the narrow stretch of road and parked. Kinna stepped from the warm confines of the automobile and pulled her lamb's wool insulated jacket tighter to her breast to protect her from the frigid northern air. This area was closed to the public but that would not keep her from her purpose. She walked to the fence-line separating the human world from the grove. The fog created a feeling of the other-world that suited her. She stopped and gazed across the terrain and saw more than the stretches of ancient pillars of hardwoods and dew covered bluebells. She looked beyond the manmade barriers and through the material world into the veil of the netherworld. She was able to view the lines of the Earth's power and the flow of magical energy. She was able to track the course of that flow and to use it.

It was unusual for one so young to be able to call the forces of magic that she can see like rivers of sunlight. It usually took a lifetime of study and practice to utilize. Kinna had been practicing magic since she was twelve. She was able to pierce the spiritual barriers to glimpse into that other world since she was nine. Her Gran was one of the first to see her potential—and the dangers of what her abilities mean. She contemplated this as she trudged through the trails manicured for human use. Kinna risked attracting the attention of the powers in Heaven, in Hell and of the Sidhe being able to do what she was able to do. Her family had been keepers of the Balance since before the time of Christ and would keep the secrets of the magical world until her line has faded into darkness, or the world has. The stars were aligning and the omens have proclaimed that the Time of Prophesy was near. She stepped off the manicured path and into the bramble undergrowth.

She had known when the first Seal was broken. She felt the tremors through the spiritual and material world. She followed the lines of energy and listened intently as the heralds proclaimed through the mists. She had tracked each of the Seals as they broke. She fretted and spoke to the others in the Circle. But, they were hidebound and refused to hear. They couldn't believe a small Ovate of sixteen could have seen what Seers in the Circle of Elders had not. The coming of the Season of Chaos could not be so soon, they told her. The Apocalypse was not due. The portents of prophesy would not come for many generations yet. She was forbidden to hear the full story of the Beginning and of the Time of Balance, but she somehow knew their secrets. So now, she was here, in the ancient wood at Foxley, the last monument of her people. This was one of the last of the Holy Places of the Druids.

Kinna climbed over bracken and the maze of branches to walk further into the of mysterious flora. She approached an area of confluence under a great oak. She approached the behemoth and chanted under her breath. She pulled out a small cloth sack from under her coat. The sky was obscured by the eddying mist but she located one of the fifteen stars that governed the beginning of the spell by using that other sight into the realms of the supernatural. She places a specific stone for each of the 5 stars governing the Earth in the circle. Black and white, green and yellow, then red. In those five points of the space, she directed energy. She walked around the outside of that circle and placed elements of creation. She places Eye of the Day, Priest's Crown, Serpent's Tongue, Heart's Ease and then Blood of Hestia in the outer circle. She directed energy into the new components. She feels a hum as the Earth and sky acknowledge the draiocht. She turns to the innermost ring. She caresses the damp ground with gentle fingertips drawing a rectangle on the ground. She takes a deep breath of the soil and loam before she continues to chant low and slow. She placed earth from her homeland, a feather from a raven, spills water from a mountain spring, and lights a coal on fire in each of four corners of a rectangular surface. In the middle of the workspace, she places a shallow silver bowl. In the bowl, she sliced open her hand and poured out her blood. As she placed the last component, symbols began to shine on the surface of the tree. The symbols were completely hidden from the eyes of mundane humans who gather here to view a remnant of an ancient time. Here, in the presence of a young and powerful druid, she lights them to reveal a secret—the secret of the Time of Chaos and how to bring Balance and Order. It reveals to her a name. She smiles.

S P N S P N S P N

Sam was waiting. Again. Always waiting. He spends a lot of his time waiting for Dean. Things have gotten better for them since his brother got Death to return Sam's soul, but he could tell that things aren't likely to ever really be the same. So, here he is sitting in the passenger seat of the Impala outside the motel room waiting. They talked about heading to South Dakota. It is cold there now and Dean hates driving in the snow, but Sam has had more headaches and he can feel the weight of the terrible injury to his soul press down on him. He worries about what would happen to Dean if they can't repair the damage. So, they plan to do what they always do when they need to work out answers. They head home… to Bobby's.

Dean emerges from the dark room and closes the door as he shrugs his leather jacket onto his shoulders. The worn leather jacket had been their dad's once upon a time. Sam was starting to understand their father so much better these days. He regrets he is unable to talk to him now. He regrets he didn't have a better relationship with him while he was alive. He always has regrets now. He looks at his brother squint against the morning sun streaming through the trees as blue shadows are cast onto the black gloss of the Impala's hood. He watches Dean pause as he takes a deep breath. Sam figures that Dean does this a lot more, too… right before having to deal with more of the same. He does it right before having to figure out how to deal with Sam. More regrets.

So, Sam waits. He will wait for Dean for as long as he needs. He vows to somehow begin to give back to his brother. Somehow. He can't begin to figure how. But, he wants to try. He told his brother of all the things he needs to repair from when he was travelling around without a soul, but he can trace the damage he has done to long before Lucifer came into the picture or losing his soul. Dean protecting his infant brother and becoming a primary caretaker for him at the age of four… Sam regrets the loss of Dean's relationship with their mother. Dean becomes protector, babysitter and peacekeeper between Sam and their father… Sam regrets the loss of Dean's childhood. Dean spends all his young adulthood trying to live up to his father's expectations, hunting and travelling the map, gives up a family with Lisa and Ben… Sam regrets the loss of a normal life for his brother. Dean gives up his soul to bring Sam back from the dead, again… Sam, Sam, Sam. This list is enormous and insurmountable. Sam regrets that Dean has lost so much because of him.

Dean opens the door with a creak and slides into the leather seat beside his brother. He looks at Sam and rolls his eyes. "What?"

Sam looks away, out the window, and shrugs.

Dean persists. He audibly sighs and asks again. "Sam. What?"

"It's nothing, Dean. Are we going or what?" Sam asks.

Dean frowns at his brother but turns his attention to the front of the car. He slides the key into the ignition and smiles as the engine turns. He looks once more at his brother staring out the side window and turns the music up. He's pleased this town has a decent radio station. So is Sam. Though he would rather listen to his own playlist, the radio is better than the stale music he has been listening to since he was a kid over and over from Dean's set of a dozen or so cassette tapes. They pull out and onto the road. The brothers travel for an hour without speaking. Dean casts an occasional glance at his brother as they head west. Sam continues to avoid looking at Dean and he has only responded with monosyllabic answers to questions posed.

"Okay, that's enough, Sam. You can't Gilbert Grape all the way back to Bobby's. What the hell is wrong?" Dean finally explodes.

Sam flinches as Dean broke the silence. He looks at Dean and sighs. "There's nothing wrong, Dean." He temporizes. "Have you heard from Bobby at all?" Dean's not interested in the attempt to change the subject. He looks hard at his younger brother. Sam sees his jaw clench and unclench.

Dean looks again at the road being devoured by the Impala's unimpeded progress. "How is your head?" he asks finally in a concerned voice.

Sam takes a long time to answer. He knows Dean has heard him at night. He still refuses to take the Percocet that Dean had managed to get for him. He shrugs. "It's not bad. I'm fine." He responds.

Dean scoffs. "You know what FINE means don't you?" He looks sideways at Sam. "Fucked up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional." Dean turns back to driving. He doesn't ask any more questions and Sam is glad.

They drive again with just the music playing on the radio interrupting the silence between the brothers. They had long driven out of range for any decent music stations, so they were listening to Skynyrd on tape. Sam considered resuming his scan of the empty track of countryside the Impala was speeding through when Dean's phone played his signature ringtone.

Dean looked down and handed the phone to Sam. "Bobby" lit up the screen. "Hey, Bobby. What's up?"

There was a hesitation on the line. "Bobby?" Sam asked.

"I thought I dialed Dean's number." The older hunter responded. Another regret. Sam tried to maintain a light voice, "Hold on", and clicked the speaker on the phone.

Dean looked at his brother and knew at once how he was feeling. "Yeah, Bobby. What do you got?" He asked.

"How far are you two from Massachusetts?"

Dean tilted his head as if calculating in his head how long it might take. "We can be there in about twenty hours. What's the hunt?"

"Women are disappearing from a town outside Salem. It looks like our kinda thing…" Bobby relayed.

"How many?" Sam asked.

"It looks like four right now. The women are all recent immigrants from Great Britain and there are earmarks of the weird in some of the witness statements." There was a pause and some fidgeting with the phone. "I'm sending the file to Sam's e-mail, now."

Sam leaned down and pulled out his laptop. He tethered the computer to his phone and signed on. Dean took his phone back from Sam as he was setting up the computer. He disabled the speakerphone and held it to his ear. "Is that it, Bobby?" There was a certain edge to Dean's voice that had Sam hesitate momentarily. He glanced at his brother quickly and could tell from Dean's body language that his relationship with Bobby was starting to become strained. One more regret. Add it to the pile. Pretty soon it won't be Percocet that Sam will need. It may be "effective" according to Dean, but not for the ills that are beginning to ail Sam.

Dean concluded his discussion with Bobby and hung up the phone. He waited for Sam to access his account and find the file. As the computer was doing its thing, Sam's eyes darted to assess his brother's bearing. Dean was tense and he was trying to appear relaxed. He was failing. Sam could read every tell Dean had in the set of his hands on the steering wheel, in the tension in his jaw, in the narrowing of his eyes and even from the way they "casually" would check to see the progress of the computer. Sam took the cue and busied his way through pulling up the file. He cleared his throat and attempted to act as though he wasn't really hurt, as though he didn't see how Dean was handling the deterioration of his world. Regret, regret, regret.

"The women were young… in their twenties." He reads through the information Bobby sent, looking for "the weird". "They were all abducted around Spring Equinox. The witness statements all speak of time lost. They were all in public places." Sam considers the timeline for a moment. "There was a full moon that night, too." It may not even be related. Yeah, right.

"You're thinking 'witch' aren't you?" Dean asks.

Sam shrugs. "Maybe. Guess we won't know until we get there."

Dean blew out a heavy sigh. He mutters, "I really hate witches" under his breath. He slows the Impala and pulls a one-eighty to head east. "My opinion, Salem didn't get enough of the bitches…" He continues to grumble for a while before cranking the volume up on "Still Unbroken".

A/N: Thanks for your consideration. I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. Please feel free to lurk, but I hope you will review. I don't have a problem with criticism, but please explain how I can make it better if you do. I like praise, too. Pat my head and I do the happy dance!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and the Voynich Manuscript are not mine. Druids and the Manuscript are real, but I have taken creative license (and how) with their history, meaning and purpose.

Season 6 SPOILERS, Language and violence will be depicted.

A/N: D_ílseacht is Gaelic meaning Loyalty and is pronounced "DEEL shocked"._

**Chapter 2**

The plane landed at Boston Logan at midnight. Kinna hated air travel and was only forced to endure it three times before now. Those other trips were short though and the trip from London to the U.S. made her nauseous and cranky. She went to the baggage claim to find her luggage. She stood there waiting for a very long while and felt she would fall asleep standing up. A light touch on her shoulder startled her.

"Aren't you a bit young to travel on your own, miss?" the young man asked her with his Irish baroque. Kinna turned to face the young man with a smirk on his face and smiled in response.

"That's your best pick up line then, is it?" she enquired.

The man shrugged and his grin grew larger. They both abandoned the pretext then and laughed as Kinna threw her arms around his neck. He closed his eyes and held her tight to him, lifting her off her feet and turning his head into her long brown hair. He inhaled the floral fragrance of her shampoo and nuzzled down to kiss her neck.

"You didn't have to come to get me, Andy." She spoke softly. "I could have hailed a taxi."

Andy made a guttural noise and scrunched his face in a mask of disdain for the notion. "It wasn't any trouble. Besides, I've missed you, my darling." They turned to the conveyor to retrieve Kinna's baggage. She only had a medium sized bag. She carried a smaller bag with her onto the plane. "Is this it then?" He asked. He crooked his head at her and his pleased expression had been transmuted by one of confusion. "You're staying for a few months aren't you?"

Kinna nodded. "Yes, but the cost to travel with baggage is so high… I am having more things shipped to the house. You don't mind?" She stared up at him with her bright blue eyes. His expression softened and he pulled her close to him again. Her soft curves were pressed against his wiry frame. His answer to her in the form of a long and passionate kiss assured her that he did not.

They were able to go from the terminal to the car without any trouble and they were trundling along the road out to Salem. Andy had begun to talk to her about some of the venues he had played since coming to America, but turned to find Kinna had fallen asleep. His mouth quirked slightly and he turned to drive in the silence that remained.

The trip was very short and they were soon pulling up to a house west of Salem. It was a quiet little neighborhood and the lane was lined on both sides with tall trees that were just now budding with small light green leaves. Not that one could see them in the black night. But, he was sure Kinna would appreciate them in the morning when she woke and the sun was streaming through the scattered clouds that even now rolled in to dot the sky. He shut off the ignition to the economy car in the driveway. He sat in the seat and watched Kinna sleep with a hand curled up under her chin. She sat with her side pressed against the back of her seat facing. He brushed her hair gently back from her face but she still did not stir. He pulled the door latch and pushed open the driver's, went over to pull her baggage out of the car. He walked them to the front stoop and then went back for Kinna. He opened her door, unlatched her safety belt and lifted her in his arms. She roused only long enough to smile at him and tighten her grip around his neck.

S P N S P S P N

Dean checked in to a motel near Salem. They had driven in shifts and arrived shortly after midnight. Dean sat slumped in the driver's seat after getting the key. It was a testimony of how the drive had drained them that Sam didn't stir when Dean had arranged for the room and had driven the Impala around to park in front of their room. Dean turned his head to regard his sleeping brother. Sam retained the worry lines between his eyes even in sleeping. Dean would take those worries from him if he could. He would reverse time and wait in Stull Cemetery for his brother's return. He would have looked for a way sooner to return his brother to him. Hm. If wishes were fishes…

Dean sighed, stretched his arms and scrubbed his face. He grinned slightly. He reached into the back seat to grab the last of the canned cheese spread. His grin grew wider as he removed the lid and turned it upside down. Just because he regretted the troubles Sam had to face didn't mean Dean was above the same old tricks. He squirted the remaining cheese spread on to Sam's face as a kind of mustache. He then took out his phone and snapped a pic.

"Come on, Sammy!" he shouted, "Up and at 'em!" He opened the driver's door and stepped out onto wet pavement.

He looked in the window after he shut the door to find his brother startle awake and reach up to rub his face only to find the cheese on his upper lip. Dean smiled and walked to the motel room door. He heard the creak of the car door open and Sam grumbling behind him.

"Very mature, Jerk." Sam complained.

Dean just chuckled as he turned the key. After a quick stop in the bathroom, Dean returned to remove Sam's belongings from the bed closest the door, put them on the interior-most bed and fall onto his face. Sam just watched his brother and sighed. He had washed all the cheese off his face and was setting up his laptop at the small table. Sam yawned and stretched as he heard the computer whir and chime to complete the boot-up. He signed on, read a couple of e-mails but when he found himself reading the same three lines over and over again decided it was time for sleep. He turned to the sounds of Dean's heavy breathing. Sam would find out where to begin in the morning. His brain was too foggy to retain the information now anyway.

Sam woke to the smell of coffee being brewed in the tiny pot the motel provided by the bathroom sink. Dean was talking softly into his phone. He seemed to be using the officious tone one uses when speaking to authorities… or one did when one was a Winchester trying to gather information. Gah! What time was it? He leaned over to pick up his cell and found he had slept nearly six hours! That was after sleeping three on the road last night. He looked at Dean, dressed in a dark grey suit and white shirt. He had shaved and was writing notes on a small spiral notepad. His profile showed the completely business-like attitude and the focus of the Hunter their father made him. Dean finished his conversation and turned to his brother lying on the bed.

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. I thought you were going to sleep the whole day away." Dean cast a lopsided smirk at Sam. Sam grunted.

When Sam had completed his morning ablutions and dressed in his suit, Dean was waiting patiently at the table, scanning information on the computer and eating a donut.

"Dude!" Sam exclaimed. "You're gonna get the keyboard all sticky again." Sam scrunched up his face in dismay.

"Relax, Princess… I'm using my left hand to scroll." He lifted his right to show the donut then bit down into its sugary goodness. He put the donut on the table and picked up the coffee cup and emptied its contents in one gulp. Sam walked over to the coffee pot to find it empty. He narrowed his eyes at his brother who motioned to a disposable coffee container on the table without even raising his eyes. Mollified, Sam went to retrieve the cup and sat down next to Dean.

"There have been five abductions," Dean began without preamble. "All women between 19 and 25, all recently from the U.K., all students at Salem State and…" Dean lifted his finger to emphasize a point, "most of the women are frequent patrons at a place in Lowell that caters to the young and impressionable."

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, "Place… as in?" he inquired.

"As in 'pub', 'bar', 'tavern'… place called D_ílseacht." Dean disclosed brightly._

_Sam considered this. "What about the women who were underage? Was there a connection?" _

_"Not to the bar. But, there were two girls who were underage. They were nursing students and lived in..." He looked at his notes, "Framington?"_

_"If you want to go to Framington, I'll hit the precinct." Sam volunteered. "We can meet up back here around 5. Then, go hit the bar?"_

_Dean rubbed his hands together as he grabbed his suit jacket and Sam joined him at the door. "Breakfast first." Dean demanded. "I have priorities."_

S P N S P N S P N

In the morning, Kinna found herself in strange surroundings. She lay on a warm bed with dark brown, fluffy, warm comforter on a firm, queen sized bed. She was able to here a mourning dove cooing outside the window where gentle morning light streamed from the east. The dappling of the shadows of leaves coming from the trees next to the window as they fluttered in the cool breeze outside shifted the light around the light blue painted room. There was a guitar resting on a stand in the corner next to an amplifier and posters around the walls of bands she had never heard of. Andy loved bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Bad Company and Rush. Andy. She smiled as the thought of his name conjured his face in her mind. They had been apart for many months now. She was finally here.

She gave a moment to consider her mother and the Circle. They didn't say anything about the draiocht and she knew it had to have sent ripples in the Balance. That was such a small bit of magic compared to the breaking of the Seals that would trigger the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse and they didn't sense that either. She wrapped herself in the coverings and burrowed deep within the cushy softness there. She inhaled deeply of the Sandalwood and smells of all that encompassed Andy. She grinned. As if her contemplation of the things that were Andy could conjure him to her, she heard him as he stood there in the doorway.

"Were you planning on ever waking up?" He asked her grinning.

"Not if I can help it." She responded in a muffled voice under the covers.

Andy walked over to her lump under the comforter and began tickling. The howls of laughter rang out and she ended up kicking off the covers. They continued their game until they heard a disgruntled cough at the door. Andy turned to look and immediately smoothed his face from smiles to serious. Kinna looked at his face and sobered as she too looked at the figure in the doorway. Her hands went to her hair to straighten her unruly strands of hair. She began to stir her body to a more upright position. The woman standing there grimaced and crooked her head to indicate the living room. She moved away from the open door to head in that direction. Andy and Kinna both turned to look at each other, smiles growing on their faces. Kinna buried hers into the comforter as Andy rose from his position on the bed.

"Hurry up, K, won't you." He admonished. In a whisper, he added, "She won't be put off for long." He closed the door behind him.

After dressing, Kinna walked into the living room. There were several people sitting on cushioned chairs and sofas, edges of tables and on the mantle of the fireplace. The tall woman waited patiently as the others spoke to each other. She nodded her head to Kinna as she sank to the floor next to Andy.

At a cough, the others quieted down and focused their attention to the tall woman in her forties. Her name was Karyn Locke. She was a kind of house mother. She kept in constant contact with Kinna's mother and the others in Circles in the UK, Europe and here in the US. Kinna squirmed until she was resting under Andy's arms.

"For those of you who haven't been here for the last week and a half to hear Andy counting down the days," She began in her strong New England accent, "Kinna came in last night so we finally have a seer in house." A smattering of applause and smiles greeted her as she blushed lightly. Andy just smiled and squeezed her close to him. The woman's face became serious. The jovial atmosphere calmed and became more solemn in response. "As you know, several from our community have gone missing… The Sidhe are not taking responsibility for the abductions. We can assume the worst, but we must remain neutral in this battle between… parties." She looked around the room. Her eyes were the color of steel and her chiseled features were sharp as a knife. Many of the young people were darting looks at their neighbors or across the room. A few of the girls sitting close to one another dropped their gaze to the ground and Kinna could see a tear drop from the eyes of one. Locke continued. "It seems that even though our numbers may be dwindling, the Circle feels it imprudent to engage in any… retribution." She sighed. "There have been portents and signs, but we still don't have a request for mediation." She looked directly at Kinna. "Now that we have a Seer we may be able to get a clearer view of our role here. If the parties continue to antagonize each other and more abductions occur we may not be able to avoid other… entanglements." Kinna looked at the hard expressions of some of her fellows in the room. She cast a look of inquiry to Andy, but he shook his head slightly to head off the questions he knew she would ask. "I will be taking Kinna with me to New Haven this week. We may be able to get a better idea of how we will proceed from there." She looked around at her audience. Her steely eyes rested on the girl Kinna had seen so moved to tears. "I am sorry; we have to stay out of this. The rest of you, keep your wits. Travel together, watch for unfamiliar faces _and_ watch for signs of Hunters."

The woman continued to speak about other matters. The fifteen young people sitting around the room watched the Locke… listening. Occasionally, she caught the fleeting glances from one or another of them as they considered her curiously.

Kinna watched the faces of the young people. This house was set up as a kind of fraternity house and all the people living here went to Salem State University. Kinna had heard many stories about Greek organizations associated with University life- mostly from movies like "Animal House". Officially, the house wasn't associated with any organization nor was it registered as such. _Officially_, the house was a just a place where students share rent, duties and space. The University and fellow students accept the explanation without looking deeper into its purpose. At least five of the young people she studied around the room were students at the Nursing School. Others, like Andy, were students of music at the University. Apparently, it was a growing population of the student enrollment. Kinna would not be attending.

Kinna was only here as part of the duties she had accepted as part of the Circle. She was the youngest of the Ovates in her Circle. Her mother and grandmother both had held positions of authority and felt that she had enough training to be entrusted this small task. Verbal traditions held that a member of her family was among the decision making body of Druids during the most noted shifts in history. Rarely did they represent Seers, though. Kinna was among the few who had the ability. She shivered and turned her attention back to the woman speaking.

She was invoking a blessing for all those present. The young people rose and started shuffling out, bubbling over with conversations. Some held friends briefly as they struggled to regain the balance within. Kinna looked at them with concentration to invoke the ability that made her a seer. She could see eddying colors of emotions swirl around the women. She could sense the strength in one of the young men who held the girl with strawberry-blonde curls. He had Healer's gift. What was his name? Morgen? He held her close and whispered soothing words in her ear. Kinna was able to see the shift in colors as she calmed and the two walked out of the house, hand in hand.

Andy stood nearby speaking with Locke. She shook her head but placed a hand on his shoulder. She looked directly at Kinna and said something to Andy making him brighten suddenly. Andy peeled off from his discussion with Locke to approach Kinna.

"Locke says you will be spending the day with her today. I had hoped to take you around campus today." He grimaced them smiled. "I will come by and get you for tonight!"

"What's happening tonight?" she asked.

"There's live music at D_ílseacht tonight. Once the elders leave, they start playing more modern music for us youngsters!" Andy enthused._

_The look on Andy's face was so open and excited, Kinna smiled. He was several years older than she was, but sometimes she felt he was so much younger. His enthusiasm for life and music made her love him. It was at times like right now she knew why he was so important to her. She had seen. She knew what was coming, even if the Elders didn't believe her. She knew. She also knew that without people like Andy around her, she might not be able to do what was necessary. She kissed him good-bye as he and several others left together to head for the school._

_A/N: I know this may seem a bit long. I wanted to make the two stories parallel for a while. There will be a time when they cross paths, but I hope you get a feeling of they are happening on two sides of a scale. _Please feel free to lurk, but I hope you will review. I don't have a problem with criticism, but please explain how I can make it better if you do. I like praise, too. Feed a cat a cookie and she might ask for milk… oh, was that a mouse?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer**: Supernatural and the Voynich Manuscript are not mine. Druids and the Manuscript are real, but I have taken creative license (and how) with their history, meaning and purpose.

Season 6 SPOILERS, Language and violence will be depicted.

**Chapter 3**

The local precinct was located in the center of town. The largest brick building, the courthouse, stood in the middle of other county offices and departments. Dean dropped Sam in front of the Police precinct, a low blocky building with squad cars and motorcycles painted in silver and black with the city seal on the door. Sam chuckled slightly. They had a witch on a broomstick on the city seal.

Sam walked through the glass doors in front and walked in to speak to the community liaison at the desk. The man looked harried and scrubbed his face. He was listening to the caller and inputting the information into the computer. Occasionally, he asked a question for verification or muttered an affirmative. When he hung up, he continued to type information and then clicked the computer. He turned to Sam then. His measuring gaze took in Sam's apparel, his demeanor and posture, and something ineffable that only law enforcement really had a way to judge. The officer shifted his own body to reflect an acceptance of Sam as part of the community. Sam wondered if he even consciously knew he did it, or was it some kind of sub-conscious thing.

"Detective Coverdale, State Police," Sam identified himself as he showed the man his identification and badge. The officer, "Rourke" it said on his name badge, nodded and asked what he could do for him.

"I need to speak to the officer in charge of these cases." Sam handed him a list of five numbers.

"Yeah, the girls…" he said sadly, then his eyes narrowed. "You don't sound like a local boy." Rourke eyed him suspiciously now.

"Just moved to Boston from Kansas. I have a… specialty… in locating missing persons." Sam covered.

This seemed to mollify Officer Rourke sufficiently. "Missing Persons. Officer Delancy. Go back that way and he has the desk next to the water cooler." Officer Rourke picked up the phone and turned his back on Sam.

Officer Delancy was an older cop; gray hair and worry lines of a man who had seen the seedier side of human nature decorated his countenance. Sam approached him as he spoke quietly on the phone. He had the soothing tone and voice of someone trying to put a mind at ease. Sam leaned against a wall next to the water cooler until the officer was finished with his conversation. Officer Delancy hung up the phone and turned to Sam as he pushed off the wall to approach.

Sam introduced himself and wondered if he could ask the officer some questions. The man leaned back in a rolling chair that had seen better days. The soft grey paneled, felt covered wall was covered in missing person bulletins. Some were old and yellowed. Some were new and had neat handwritten notes in blue or black ink. The man answered Sam's questions concisely and with efficiency he had seen in few others. He used only the most pertinent words and wasted no time on embellishments. His brother was like this, but even he could take notes from this guy. When he got all the information he thought he needed, he gave the officer a card with his alias on it and turned to leave.

"Kid." The older man called behind him.

"Yeah?" Sam responded.

He walked up to Sam so he wasn't overheard. "Get a haircut. State Troopers, detectives, law enforcement in general… we keep our hair neat. High and tight, if possible." The man lifted his eyes to meet Sam's. There was a knowing there. He had seen things. "No one's going to buy you are a cop. Keep me in the loop if you find something on this." He turned and walked back to his desk without a backward glance. Sam was stunned. Did that guy just peg him for a Hunter? He left the building still wondering.

S P N S P N S P N

The narrow street was potholed and winding. Dean gritted his teeth as he hit each hole and ducked his head to find the numbers on the old style homes that lined both sides of the tree lined road. When he finally found the neat, white, two-storied house, he had a headache and grumbled irritably. He rose out of the Impala and glanced around the neighborhood. There were open yards and people walking along greeted each other heartily. Most of the neighbors appeared elderly and he wondered at young college students taking up residence in this sleepy place.

Dean walked up the narrow concrete walk to the porch. He raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he could. A tall slender woman in her forties stood before him. He smiled his most charming and endearing grin at her but she glared at him- her steel grey eyes piercing into him.

"Hello, ma'am. My name is Detective Blackmore, State Police." Dean began as he flashed his badge for her. She seemed unmoved.

Hm.

"Well, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Miss Abbey MacCall and Linda Wells." Dean waited until she responded. It was like she was made of granite. Her face expressed nothing if not hostility and distrust. She folded her arms in front of her. Her bearing remained straight and unmoving.

"May I come in?" Dean tried again.

She took a moment of evaluating Dean before she gestured with one had to the wicker furniture on the porch. She moved elegantly beyond the threshold and took a seat with fluid graceful movements. _Okay_. Dean wasn't sure about which angle to take with this reserved woman. Reserved, hell! This woman was closed and forbidding. He couldn't get a decent read her and he immediately began thinking that he should have taken the precinct investigation. Dealing with people had always been Sam's expertise. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"Ms…." He quirked his head in inquiry.

"You may call me Ms. Locke." She responded formally. "Ask your questions… Detective."

_Yep_, Dean thought. Headache was the least of his worries.

Dean was sitting in the Impala waiting for Sam near the brick courthouse. He was eating a cheeseburger and reviewing information he had purloined earlier that morning. Sam opened the door and slid into the seat. Dean handed a sack to Sam. Sam reached in and pulled out a sandwich.

"I think I was made." He said cautiously. He watched his brother to see his reaction. Dean grew still as he looked at his brother.

"What do you mean?" Dean was tense, alert. Sam sighed.

He explained the short conversation with the police officer in missing persons.

Dean looked at Sam, calculating. Sam could almost see how Dean put things in categories in his mind. Dean did risk assessments. Sam tended to put things together like a puzzle or a portrait. He saw connections and they just clicked. If he was honest with himself, he realized he worked a lot like his dad. Dean had once said that their dad was a genius at putting things together and finding patterns. Sam suspected that their dad saw the world like he did. That was likely the crux of the problem between father and son. Dean worked differently. His assessments were about pragmatics. He saw lists and categories and motivations. He weighed pros and cons, sometimes instantly putting together a strategy for the immediate situation. He was all action and he was a fantastic Hunter. In this, Sam thought, Dean surpassed their father. He was a better Hunter in the field then either Sam or their father. Sam was better at determining the convoluted twists and turns of people's stories. Heaven and Hell had plans and Sam was able to follow them. He was able to find jobs and locate the clues. Sam looked at his brother. He felt tense that Dean would call a halt to the current investigation and get them out of town.

Dean began to relax his body. He turned his attention back to his burger. "You know… he's right." Dean said.

"About what?" Sam asked.

"You do need a haircut." Dean smirked.

Sam relaxed. They would stay. Dean had analyzed the potential risk. He felt the officer was in the category of civilian who knows but won't expose them. When Sam considered it, he agreed. Officer Delancy could have outed him at the precinct but instead, he gave Sam the answers they needed.

Sam cleared his throat and pulled out his notes. "The two nineteen year old girls, MacCall and Wells, were enrolled in nursing classes at the University, they were straight A students, involved in environmental groups on campus, were involved in community outreach surrounding local parks and lakes. They didn't seem to have any other connection to the three older girls."

Dean scoffed. "You got more than I did. The woman at the house was like a stone pillar. You'd think she didn't want them found. A real rock hard witch…"

Sam took a bite of the sandwich Dean had got him and took a pull from the drink.

"The others, Tammy Kincaid, Rachel Widlow, and Bernice Collins were also nursing students getting ready to graduate. They volunteer at different hospitals or nursing homes, they are involved in community outreach, get involved with charities… these people are friggen saints, Dean." Sam complained. "Do you think they could still be alive?"

"Don't know. I guess it depends on what took them and why."

Sam considered the pieces to the puzzle. "Could be connected to the phases of the moon _or_ the cycle of season. They were taken on spring equinox which was also a full moon." There were too many possibilities to click into place to form a picture yet. They didn't have enough pieces yet. They needed to narrow it down more. He wouldn't speculate yet.

"Could be witches then?" Dean asked. He was eager to tussle with witches. He hated witches. If there was one of the supernatural creatures he had a personal grudge against, you know… aside from the demons, hellhounds, pagan gods, wendigo, vengeful spirits, vampires, werewolves, poltergeist, lamia, and occasionally angels… oh, and the apocalypse, but that was an event and not a creature… Other than all those things, it was witches that really pissed him off. Plus, the added benefit of being something unlikely to scratch the Great Wall of Sam.

"Could be worth having Bobby research rituals and spells involving five Florence Nightingale types." Sam ventured. He pulled out his phone to call Bobby.

Dean thrust the trash from his lunch into the now-empty sack and threw it behind him into the back seat. He fired the ignition and pulled into traffic, heading for the motel room.

S P N S P N S P N

The morning had been so hectic and the flight last night so long. Kinna spoke briefly with the house matron, Ms. Locke, before heading to take a shower. The house was quiet and still. Everyone had headed out for work, school or other activity in town. She relished the silence. The birds outside quarreled in the tree next to Andy's window. Kinna sat for long moments peering out at the day. She found her mind wandering. This kind of meditation was useful during tasks that focus her mind, for directed visions. She wasn't really "looking" for anything. She let her mind go to places directed by the currents of the world around her. It helps that the house is old and made from wood. The organic materials wouldn't block her abilities. There was a water source nearby where animals made their homes. She could sense the world alive and waking.

During her meditation, she sensed a ripple. It was just a slight ripple from somewhere very nearby. Now, she focused her meditation. Her pulse quickened. She could see the name on the old oak tree. She could see the symbol that meant, "Son of Light". It hung above a weapon of some kind. It was still unfocused but she knew it was a long weapon, possibly a sword of some kind. But no, it was fashioned from steel _and_ timber. She could sense that much. She couldn't make out the actual form it took. She could sense that it was durable and dependable. She tried and tried but was unable to identify the weapon. The glowing sigil was bright and would have taken her completely by surprise if she hadn't already seen it in the woods at home. She knew what the sigil was.

She felt the warmth from the presence of the being designated as "Son of Light". Whoever it was, Kinna could tell that she would be able to trust the person. The vision that crept up on her while she was contemplating the Son's aura caught her with all her protections at their minimum. It slammed into her cortex and flashed muted colors and burned hot. She saw a circle in a concrete room. There were Children of Men on the floor around the outside of the circle. They sat weaping with fear running through them. She saw black figures oozing decay, two of them, circling and snarling. Unnatural! Grotesque! Repulsive! Kinna fought the urge to vomit. She forced herself to calm, to slow her heart rate. She layered her protections slowly, concentrating on the purification of her spirit. She pulled slightly away from her vision; just enough to distance herself from the mental equivalent of decaying flesh and rot.

After a mental sigh and restoration of her protections, she "walked" closer to the tableau. She saw the light gold spheres that represented for her the Children of Men. There were five glimmering spheres situated in, what she had originally thought was a circle but which she now saw was a large pentagram. There was nuclear green "slime" surrounding them like sickly candle wax dripping over them. Some were glowing slightly less brightly than the others and this concerned Kinna.

She turned slightly to regard the darkly circling creatures. She felt the wave of nausea again. They were so _wrong_. She forced herself to truly examine them. She would need to have answers when she took the information back to her Elders. She critically observed the disgusting creatures. They didn't have the flow or energy of a transmuted creature- one that was a base of natural animal and changed to suit the needs and desires of whoever had the power to change them. She had "felt" transmuted creatures before. They weren't always disgusting and sometimes were useful. Wizards occasionally created familiars by transmuting them, making them above their natural intelligence or stronger than the original stock. They didn't feel like created creatures either. Usually created creatures have the essence of their creator on them. These were different.

They were as if they were dead and yet were moving around. Dead, but she could "feel" them hunger. She "saw" the waves of hate and anger flicker off them. They wanted the children. The creatures' eyes bored into their charges and would rip them apart. But, they were… yes! They were controlled! She tried to gather her wits. She wrapped more protections around her as if she were gathering a cloak to her to ward off the cold. She peered more intently at the circling creatures. She forced her mind to "look" in a different way. She wanted to see if she could detect the strand of magic that controlled the creatures. The shadowy blackness wisped as strands of thread. Kinna gathered the wisps in her ephemeral grasp. She tried to track it to its origin. Somehow, the creatures were controlled with reins having the strength of steel chording but were as tenuous and elusive as silken spider's web.

Suddenly, she felt a blow as physical as if a hammer swung into her face. She was struck by a sickening wave of magic warding. She was being expelled from her vision by an outside source. She was unable to detect the nature and origin of the power. Indeed, she was unable to do anything but slip away from consciousness. She felt herself slipping and falling away. She whipped back to herself. She was guided by a form of light and warmth. She felt herself wrapped once more in warm golden light. She felt as though she were relaxing in a glade under a towering oak in the early summer sun. She reveled in the feeling of goodness as a cleanser for the evil she had delved into before. She heard her name being called. The golden warmth was receding but she could still hear the voice of a woman calling her name.

"Kinna!"

_Hm?_

"Oh, blessed be." The voice intoned with relief. KInna recognized the voice of Ms. Locke.

Kinna reached up and held her head in her hand. She felt the bump in the back of her skull. Did she _actually_ get struck by a hammer? She winced and sucked her breath in through her teeth. She was anticipating a massive headache.

"Where am I?" Kinna already knew the answer but she was having a hard time putting it together.

"I came in to find you on the floor," was Ms Locke's brisk reply. She helped Kinna on to the bed. She very expertly began feeling Kinna's skull and checking the dilations of her eyes. Kinna endured this with practiced patience. Soon, Ms. Locke straightened and seemed satisfied that nothing was broken.

"You should stay in tonight." She said.

Kinna shook her head slightly. She smiled up at the house matron. "I need to contact my mother and the others. Maybe we could Skype? I had a vision. I think I can find the girls."

Ms. Locke blanched. "We have had a visitor this morning." She said. "I think our Hunters have finally made an appearance."

Kinna processed the information. _This morning._ She had sensed the Son of Light so close. Could the Hunter be the person she would seek? She sensed the presence before the vision struck her. "When did the Hunter leave?" she asked.

"Just then." The older woman replied. "I watched him pull away just before I found you here."

She had been bathed in the glow of the _Son_, not the _Sun_. She had cleansed her palette on the aura of the Son after she had sullied herself in the vision. She felt she would have to locate the Hunter before she would know for sure. In the meantime…

Kinna began to rise from the bed and make her unsteady way to the door. Ms. Locke stood nearby with her hand twitching as though to catch her should she need help. Kinna turned to the woman and asked for assistance to the WC. She hoped to still take a shower prior to calling the Circle in Wales with information regarding her vision.

She knew that Hunters were tenacious. They would not have seen the last of the Hunter. Perhaps it was time. They had similar people in the UK and, indeed, everywhere. There were men and women wronged by supernatural creatures. They were men and women who would take their revenge on demons and vampires among others that went bump in the night. Where they wished to rid the world of the blight of the supernatural, druids knew there was a balance to be maintained. There were nearly as many beneficial supernatural creatures as malevolent. There were many who were simply mischievous or curious- neither good nor evil. Druids saw the world in shades of grey. Hunters, though, often saw everything in black and white, right and wrong, good and bad. There was an order to the world, both natural and supernatural alike. That balance, that natural order, needed to be preserved.

A/N: I realize that my chapters tend to be more than 2000 words. This one is a bit longer. I want to make sure that I get both groups of characters in parallel stories and sometimes the cut off point is… blurry. As always, I appreciate those of you who have taken enough interest to open this and read it. I feel all kinds of joy and warm fuzzies… like spiritual toe-socks!... if I get some feedback. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclosure:** Supernatural is not mine, nor are the characters created by Kripke. Druids actually did exist and, apparently still do. I have taken serious liberties with the history et al. Kinna and Andy are mine but any other similarities of persons living, dead, or paranormal are strictly co-inkee-dinkal.

**A/N**: Stay with me friends. I know it is taking a while to see the actual hunt, but I am getting there. Dean kind of suspects witches. Sam doesn't know and is unwilling to focus too narrowly on one paranormal beasty, smart lad that he is.

**Chapter 4**

Dean shared the little information he had acquired from the younger girls' house mom. When Sam had offered to go to the precinct, Dean had thought it was a kind of gift. The house the girls lived in was supposedly something like a sorority house. He had imagined scantily clad co-eds flitting about. He certainly hadn't anticipated being blocked in the investigation by the stern woman, Ms. Locke. Maybe if Sam had gone they would have gotten more information. Going to the bar, though... He was feeling good about the prospect of that. He's in his element in a bar.

Sam and Dean had gone to the motel to change and do a bit more research, take some calls, call Bobby to get him started on research they needed from his end. They rested in the interval between Dean picking up Sam downtown and the time they planned to go to the bar. Dean lay on the bed, his hands folded on his chest. He was still for the moment. He tried to avoid too much circumspection. He didn't think that delving too deep into the meaning of life was useful or helpful. He chose instead to stare at the ceiling and contemplate the virtues of Grace Park. Hmm… Yum. His reflection was interrupted by the tip tip tapping of fingers flying on a keyboard. Dean closed his eyes and tried to force his mind to really imagine Grace Park in her swim suit on the beach of Hawai'i. Tip tip tap. Grrr… Okay, Dean. Concentrate. Tip tip tappity tap tap. Dean blew out a frustrated sigh with a growl. He looked at his oblivious little brother.

"What are you doing?" Dean groused.

Sam continued tapping the keyboard. He didn't even look up as he answered Dean. "I am trying to see if there is any lore that fits the profile we are compiling."

Dean looked at his brother. He was sure his brother wasn't being deliberately disruptive. He was so focused. Ah, well. Dean reached over and grabbed the remote for the television. He clicked it on and flipped the channels. The news reporter stood in front of the University. The banner on the bottom of the screen read "Another Abduction: Are Students at Local College Safe?"

"Sam." The urgency in Dean's voice alerted Sam and he rose to sit on his bed facing the television. Dean increased the volume.

"Authorities have alerted campus police and the Dean here at Salem State has assured family and students that the safety of students at the school and in the community is a priority." There was a cut to an older man with worry lines seaming across his face.

"I want to once again assure the students that we are doing everything to keep them safe. We are sending CSOs… Campus Security Officers… to classes to give students precautions they can take for themselves."

The screen cut to a picture of a young woman. The reporter's voice over informed her audience that Kelly Savoy was taken sometime last night between midnight and five in the morning. She had gone to a friend's house to study for midterm exams and she never made it to the apartment she shared with her roommate. There was a number under her picture for a tip line. Dean turned off the television and turned to look at his brother.

Dean had been on the phone with the local police precinct that morning and no one had mentioned the woman's disappearance. Sam had met with a missing person's investigator and had not heard about Savoy. Dean felt the tension grow inside him. A look to his brother revealed that Sam was coming to the same realization. Dean was both rewarded with the look of worry and concern that washed over his brother. He had dealt with Robo-Sam for so long, it was so good to see expressions of emotions that were the trademark for his brother. He grinned.

"Maybe we should go to the school?" Dean considered it for a moment. "Or maybe YOU should go, Sweet Valley. That's more your element than mine." Dean began pulling on his boots.

"Where are you going to go?" Sam asked.

"I am going to go get a drink." Dean smirked.

"In Lowell?"

Dean grinned in response.

S P N S P N S P N

Kinna showered and changed. She emerged clean and refreshed, but as she predicted, sporting a massive headache. She went to the kitchen with Ms. Locke and they shared the breakfast of toast and poached eggs. She took two pain killers with orange juice. By mutual consent, they retired to the house matron's room where she had a computer situated along a wall next to her door. The two women sat next to one another and set up the conference call between the Head of the Circle in the US and the head of the Circle in the UK. Both women had web cams so all the participants would see each other. Kinna felt extremely uncomfortable with technology, so she just waited for Ms. Locke to make a quick introduction to the morning's activities before giving Kinna the floor to speak.

"Hello, Elders." She began. She was very proud that her voice didn't betray the feelings she was feeling. Her voice was clear and strong. Her face poised in a serene mask.

"Seer, please tell us what you have seen."

"In a room without windows, walls curved and made from concrete and steel, sat the five young women who have been stolen. They are bound to the ground by iron and magic. The magic is unnatural and reeks of death. Their captors have employed creatures… whose origins… I am unable to ascertain. I was thrown out of the visions by the magic protections used by the tainted practitioners. I was … well, caught, I guess you could say… by another, cleaner presence." Kinna was reluctant to disclose all the details about the Son, but knew that she must reveal anything the Elders required of her. Somehow, touching the presence of the Son was a private and personal experience of which she felt protective.

"Do you know where the girls are?" The leader of the US Druidic Circle asked with anxiety everyone could detect.

Kinna hesitated. "No, Elder. I tried to glean as many details as I could, but the creatures that have the girls are… well, they are disgusting. The touch of the magic nearly had me too sick to look."

The expressions on all the Elders were worried and determined. Kinna knew that giving the information would result in the consternation in her superiors. She had little in the way of useful information. She answered more questions, but didn't really relay more than impressions.

"What can you tell us about the other presence you experienced?"

Kinna schooled her expression and took a slow inhalation before progressing. She closed her eyes to concentrate. "The presence was symbolically represented in my vision. I think… I had the impression of a male…" She swallowed hard. Something was interfering with her ability to continue. She struggled against the compulsion to withhold information.

"Seer?" The Elder from the UK prompted. Kinna nodded hastily and Ms. Locke put her hand on Kinna's shoulder. Kinna inhaled once more.

"The presence was… I recognize the sigil identifying him…" She swallowed again. "He may be a weapon of Heaven." She felt exhausted. She was unable to name him as the "Son of Light". She moved around the compulsion but felt she was being manipulated. She couldn't tell if the Son was blocking her somehow or if the magic that brought her the information in the woodland was operating against her. She centered her mind and decided that it didn't matter. She would relent and discontinue the fight against the compulsion. She felt relaxed having made that decision.

"Is there anything else you are able to tell us?"

Kinna felt so relieved. She was asked "anything else you are _able_". "No, Elder. I am _unable_ to provide any other information in this matter."

"You will keep us informed of further developments." The Elder from the UK made it sound like a question, but Kinna knew it was a dictate.

"Of course, Elder."

The computer screen went blank. Kinna lurched quickly to her feet. She ran down the hall and entered the bathroom. She had slammed the door behind her. She stayed in the small lavatory until her stomach was completely empty and she felt wobbly on her feet. She had to stay close to the walls when she emerged and had to use the walls, counters and furniture to keep from falling. Ms. Locke took her arm to help her to Andy's room. She left Kinna briefly to return with a glass with ginger ale filled to the rim and a plate of crackers. Locke remained with Kinna until she had gained a modicum of control over herself. Kinna was fighting sleep when Ms. Locke left her. Kinna weaved protections from the remaining sunlight and the power from the tree outside the window. Then, she drifted into sleep.

Kinna opened her eyes to find Andy staring down at her. His large green eyes looked at her with worry lines between his brows. She raised herself up on her elbows. She smiled weakly at him.

"What happened?" Andy was capable of a great eloquence when he was composed and prepared. When he was worried, though, his natural eloquence was reduced dramatically.

"Vision." Kinna said simply. Andy enfolded Kinna into his arms and kissed her head lightly.

"Bad?"

Kinna nodded her head. She leaned her head into Andy's shoulder. She was no longer as tired because she had apparently slept for many hours. Her stomach no longer rolled. She really felt hungry. As if he read her mind, Andy asked if she wanted to go for "dinner" as the Americans called it. Kinna's laugh was slightly muffled by the green sweater Andy wore.

S P N S P N S P N

Sam decided that he wouldn't go to the University, but instead decided to head to the precinct to discuss matters with Officer Delancy. He was no longer wearing his suit, but he told the desk officer (a different one than in the morning) who he was there to see. Officer Delancy, also no longer wearing a uniform, met Sam at the front desk and nodded his head to the door indicating that he wanted Sam to follow him outside. They walked side by side until they reached a small hole-in-the-wall diner on the corner. The waitress brought coffee for Delancy and asked Sam what he would like to drink. Sam indicated the same. They sat in silence for several minutes until the waitress brought Sam his drink. Delancy looked at the woman, whose name badge said "Sally", and she took the hint and left them alone.

"I know why you're here." He began. "I didn't know about Miss Savoy when you came to see me. We got the call in around ten in the morning and it hadn't gotten to me until after noon." Delancy grimaced and took a pull from the dark liquid in his mug.

"Do you have any information I need to know?" Sam asked. He figured that the man knew what Sam did and so beating around the bush was a counter-productive waste of time.

Delancy reached in to his jacket and pulled out folded papers. He slid them across to Sam. "We've been keeping some information out of news reports… but, you should probably know. They all went to a particular bar…"

"Dilseacht. We know." Sam relied distractedly.

Sam sat reading some of the neatly handwritten notes on a page containing the missing woman's personal information. He read what the officer had obtained from the roommate. Mostly how she was such a saint. All the people who knew Ms. Savoy thought she was an exceptional leader and a wonderful person. She was head of her class and was accepted into medical school. He folded the paper again and put it into his pocket.

"So, she is just like the others?" Sam asked. "Nursing student, involved in environmental groups and volunteers…"

"And she's a druid." Delancy muttered, nodding his head.

"Wait… what?" Sam asked.

"All the girls… they identified their religious affiliation as either "decline to state" or "other". Roommates or group friends identified them. They belong to a group of so-called modern druids." Delancy shrugged. "To each their own. I actually have "decline to state" so I don't get hounded for being a Secular Humanist."

Sam left the diner soon after that and called his brother.

"Sam?" Dean answered the phone.

"I have some information. Where are you?"

"Dude, this bar is so boring. Why did those girls come _here_? There is just a bunch of old dudes playing chess and nursing whatever is on tap."

Sam grinned. Poor Dean. He is not having a great time with this case.

"I'm on my way." Sam replied with a grin before hanging up.

Sam walked in to the dark bar. As Dean had indicated, there were about ten old guys scattered around the place. There were three pairs of them playing chess while the remaining four men watched from barstools or nearby chairs. They were in no real hurry about their game, but there was little to no discussion between any of them. They sipped slowly from liquids of various colors in glasses frosted with "Guinness" across the glass. Sam found his brother sitting in a booth with both entrances in plain view.

Sam slid into the high backed booth and the two stared at the men as they moved the pieces around the boards at a leisurely pace. The men occasionally cast suspicious glances at the brothers, but still no one said anything. The only sound except from the chess players' movements and shifting was from the soccer game playing with its volume low on the television screens above the bar. Dean looked at his brother with a grimace of displeasure.

"I hate this case." He declared. He picked up the glass in front of him and drank down the blonde colored beer.

Sam smirked in response. A young man wearing a half apron and carrying another glass of beer came up to the table then. He set down the full glass and picked up the empty. "Can I get you something?" He asked in a strong New England accent. Sam looked at him and asked for a light beer. Dean looked away in disgust but said nothing. The server went away to get Sam his beer. The two brothers sat in silence for a while.

"I can't take this anymore. There is nothing happening here."

"Dean, just wait, okay. The girls were here from seven o'clock all the way until closing. We just got here a little early is all."

Dean shifted and his facial expressions showed what he thought of that idea. There weren't even any hot waitresses, older cougar-type waitresses, women of any kind in this bar. He was beginning to think the reports were off their rocks and they had come to the wrong place.

Suddenly, as if his very thoughts had conjured them, several women came chattering through the front door. They were carrying books or book bags. They waved to the bartender and the young server went to sit with them at a table. The young people chattered and laughed, and the older men would look over at them indulgently. When the games ended in checkmate, the men stowed the pieces in drawers under the boards. The men stood and walked to the tables with the young women to bid them good-bye. The girls smiled and waved or stood to hug one or more of the older men. The men cast departing glance at the brothers as they left through the front door.

As the hour ticked by, more young people entered the bar and sat around the elevated stage near the back. The bar had become filled with voices where earlier there was nothing but the clicking of pieces on a chess board. There was so noises toward the back as it got closer to seven. There were men and women entering carrying musical instruments, amplifiers and wires. Dean's interest was piqued even more at this sight. He watched closely as the band began setting up. Sound checks continued over the din of young voices. The televisions went off and there were more people at the bar and gathered at tables. One table near the back door remained empty except for one girl sitting there alone. Others came up to speak to her, but no one stayed or sat with her. She wasn't disturbed by the lack of company. She smiled and spoke to all the visitors and they smiled and spoke with her easily. There was another disturbance at the back entrance. Several people came through the door and sat with the lone woman. They hugged and smiled. They were very solicitous of a woman… no, girl… who came in with a musician. Several conversations dimmed and eyes went to the newcomers. The server came around to the table with more beer for the brothers.

"Hey," Dean addressed the server, "Who is that who just came in with the band?"

The server looked over his shoulder at the group of people. He looked back at Dean with a look of suspicion and quickly covered his expression with nonchalance. "Just…" he temporized, "a girlfriend of one of the band."

"Is she from England?" Dean asked.

"Uh," the server was shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know. I have to get back to work." He walked away but looked back at the booth where the two brothers sat. He grabbed a tray with several drinks loaded on it. He leaned in to speak to the bartender who nodded. When the server moved away from the bar with a covert glance at Dean, Dean noticed the bartender watching them.

Sam looked at the wary expression on the bartenders face. "Well, that was smooth..."

Dean frowned but shrugged and took another pull from his glass. The brothers continued to watch the groups of students. Dean watched the girlfriend. Slowly, in singles or pairs, the students approached the girlfriend. She was younger than they, but they showed her such respect and attention. Dean furrowed his brows and wondered why they should treat the girl this way. He wondered if she was even 21.

S P N S P N S P N

The band began to play. Andy was on the stage and his nimble hands flew over the strings as he played an instrumental introduction. Kinna found herself smiling. Andy looked at his guitar with care and the complex picking of the strings left her, as always, in awe. He continued for several minutes before the bassist entered with a riff building on the phrase to which Andy returned. They built the complexity of music until the drummer hammered three beats to transition from instrumental to a more recognizable melody. She recognized the very popular song by Deep Purple. Andy had played it for her before. She had never heard the whole band play it before. The others hooted and yelled in appreciation, clapping hands and stomping feet. When Andy began singing "Smoke on the water, fire in the sky", the others had joined him in the chorus. As she was enjoying the music, the server, John, came up to her to whisper in her ear.

"There are men who are strangers at the back and they are interested in whether you are from England." He put down the glass of water with ice and a lemon floating in it. Kinna nodded and John walked away to bring drinks and appetizers to other tables. She waited until her heart rate slowed down slightly. She looked around the bar in an unhurried, unfocused way. She saw the two men in the booth but let her eyes glide past them and circled around until she was once again looking at Andy. He was just finishing the one song and began another.

Kinna rose and walked toward the bathroom. Two others, a woman (the one who had arrived early to make sure she had a table near the stage) and a guy peeled off the group at her table and walked with her. She would have to get accustomed being unable to go anywhere without an escort until the people abducting members of the Circle was apprehended. As she passed the men in the booth, she let herself "look" at them. She had to grip the tall cushioned back of the booth as she stumbled in response. She had no way to prepare herself with "seeing" him so close! She could feel the warmth of sunlight on her face and she became weak with the intensity of his presence.

Dean reached out his arm with a smile on his face to steady her. Kinna's bodyguards went to her, anxiety written all over their faces. Kinna waved them off and straightened. Dean looked into Kinna's cerulean blue eyes and asked her if she was okay. She nodded and swallowed. She had literally just stumbled into the "Son of Light".

"That's your boyfriend playing Deep Purple cover, right?" Dean asked.

Kinna nodded again. She was having trouble getting her voice to work.

"You know, he's really good. What's his name?"

Kinna caught her heart again and steadied herself. She coughed delicately. "Andy. His name is Andy." She stammered with her proper BBC One accent. Dean nodded slightly to himself. He had a smile that didn't reach his eyes. He got the information he was looking for. Kinna felt she was able to read the slight movements in his body language. She had thought earlier that she would be able to trust this man. She wasn't so sure now. He frightened her. He was dangerous and capable of dealing a lot of terrible damage. She wanted away from him as quickly as possible. She grinned nervously at him as he leaned back into the booth. Her escorts came then to assist her. They spoke to her in hurried and hushed tones. She didn't hear much of what they were saying to her but she looked back to find the taller of the two brothers looking at her thoughtfully. She could see Dean look around the corner of the booth at her. She found herself shaking slightly. She definitely didn't want to attract his scrutiny and now she was feeling a target plastered all over her.

**A/N**: Okay- It took a while for the boys to catch up with Kinna. I think that Dean is super Hawt and totally sexy, but you know and I know he is downright scary as well. Imagine knowing this if you are nearly ten years younger than him and never had to actually face the night side!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Dean figured it didn't take a college degree to see that the girl was terribly afraid. He kept an eye on the guy who was acting as bodyguard.

"Did you see that?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah," Sam responded. "Something has her completely freaked out. And what the hell is with the escort?"

Dean looked again. The man was still standing at the hallway outside the bathrooms. He didn't look like he was used to this kind of detail. He was paying attention to the band and just standing in the hallway. Dean turned back to his brother. He took another drink of his beer and sat listening to the band. He wasn't lying to the girl. This Andy guy was really good. He had moved on to Queen, not a favorite of Dean's but Andy spun it in a way that made it his own. It sounded good.

Dean read body language. He was good at it. He read her tension walking toward them. He saw her shock as though someone had blow cold water at her face. When he reached for her, he saw in one moment she was… in awe? Then, fear… blinding fear… the next. He thought maybe she may have been afraid of him. She turned pale despite the fact he turned on the patented Dean Winchester charisma. He thought about those others who were with her. They were solicitous and reverent. They treated her like she was something special. Dean thought she was just a kid. She looked like a kid. She wasn't that good at hiding tells though she had tried. She was definitely a kid.

"Dean." Sam nodded his head at the bathroom hallway.

Dean looked at the girl and her entourage walk toward them. She looked stricken and pale. She held on to the arm of the woman she went in with. They walked back to their table by a different route. The brothers kept their eye on her. Dean finished his beer and looked over at the bartender. He was staring right at him. The bartender had a look of antagonism on his face.

"Time to go." Dean reported. He threw cash down on the table and the two brothers weaved their way through the tables and people. Some looked up at them passing and flashed untrusting expressions. Others didn't even notice their passing.

Once they were out of the bar and approaching the Impala, Dean turned to look at the building from whence they came. He was deeply disturbed. What the hell did they do to encounter so much hostility from people they didn't even know? He shook his head in confusion. People… Then, it occurred to him.

Dean slid into the driver's and Sam was already sitting in the seat next to him. Dean rested his hands on the steering wheel. "Sam, they think we might be somehow responsible for the abductions." Dean looked over at his brother.

Sam nodded. "I thought of that, too. Of course, it could just be that they're a close knit group and they notice outsiders."

Hmm…

Dean sat quietly in the Impala. Sam looked askance at his brother but didn't say anything.

Sam didn't mind just sitting in the car, particularly while on the job. His brother kept his eyes on the building. If people left through the back door, they would see it and the front door was also within eye shot of the parking lot space Dean had chosen. Sam suspected the group Dean wanted to watch for would be coming out the back door. They went in that way.

Sam considered the young woman. He saw his brother when she walked by them. He noticed the way Dean looked at her. She was a clue in a job. They both knew it. The way his brother looked at her, though, was a little scary. She was just a kid. She was just a little girl. Sam figured the only reason she was let in to the bar at all was that she was with the band. But his brother… Sam had seen that look on his face when he was confronted with a creature that hadn't yet revealed itself. The speculative look on his face like he was sorting… pros and cons… categorizing threats… he played it as though he bought the little girl act, but Sam could see it from Dean's eyes. Dean wasn't buying what she was selling.

They'd been on stakeouts before. They'd sat under the stars, spent hours driving, and slept in the car. The hours, days and years they spent in the damned car… Sam wouldn't trade a moment of it. And here they were sitting in the Impala waiting for a girl to come out of a bar so they could… what? Trail her to her home? And then what?

"Dean, what's the plan here?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at his brother and then back to the building. He was quiet for a long time. Sam waited for him to make up his mind. Dean was thinking. Sam didn't think there was a plan. Dean ran on instinct. He planned in the moment. After long minutes, Sam tried again.

"Dean?"

"Sam. We're going to stay here and watch until that… that girl… comes out. We're going to follow her home. If someone shows up to take another girl, we'll see who it is and if not… well, at least we'll know what the hell is up with that girl." Dean was worked up. Sam thought about it for a moment. He looked at Dean again and realized. He wasn't _hunting_ the girl. He was _worried_ about her. She was a kid, and she was scared. Sam smiled to himself. Big Brother instincts don't stop with just Sam. Little kids everywhere are Dean's biggest weakness. Granted the girl wasn't exactly Ben's age, but she was still young and big brother couldn't help himself. One look into those big baby blues… especially since the bodyguards were so clearly not equipped to handle anything substantial.

SPNSPNSPN

Kinna was weak and stunned. She felt the full impact of the presence of the Son. She trembled after she locked herself in the stall.

"Seer?" Mary whispered from the other side of the door.

"I'm fine, Mary." Kinna responded hoarsely. "Just… a little jet lag, I think."

Mary blew out a relieved breath. "Of course." Kinna could hear Mary pulling paper towels and wetting them. "I should have thought of that. I have never been out of Massachusetts, myself." Mary prattled. She continued to natter on but Kinna had ceased listening. _What am I doing here? _She was shaking hard and she wrapped her arms around herself. She slowed her breathing and wove protections upon her protections. She was a fool, cock-sure and arrogant. She had dared challenge forces of power that were too strong. She was not even out of her training yet. She had so many years yet before she would be able to travel to the Sacred Groves in Anglesea. She placed her head in her hands and sobbed quietly.

_Enough!_ She told herself. She straightened herself, scrubbed her face and wiped her eyes. She inhaled deeply. She filled herself with as much confidence as she could muster. She would not betray herself with appearance of weakness. She opened the door and Mary handed her the wet paper towels. Kinna placed the cold wet compress on the back of her neck. She walked to the sinks and ran water to refresh the compress. After several minutes she looked up to see Mary's worried expression. She hadn't spoken a word since Kinna had emerged from the stall. Kinna closed her eyes and straightened. She smiled wanly but washed her hands and was moving to the door before Mary realized she was leaving. They walked out and Kinna realized that she couldn't bear to walk past the Son once more.

Kinna diverted the small group through a more populated route than the one bringing them past the brothers. She glanced briefly at the men as they looked at her. She paled slightly realizing she had brought herself into their attention. Andy was looking down at her from the stage with an expression of concern as he sang a rowdy bit by Queen about fat-bottomed women. She sat down in her seat and smiled reassurances to her boyfriend.

Kinna kept up her strength as well as she could well into the night. Andy and his group did many songs by Brits and by American bands. They took a break before 9 o'clock. Andy was sweating and panting as he sat down next to Kinna. He took her hand and she leaned into his arm, putting her head on his shoulder. He stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. He pulled away from her and really looked at her.

"Are you okay?" Andy asked anxiously. "You're so hot!" He stopped stroking her head to place it across her forehead. He let go of her and stood up, pulling her to her feet. He walked with her outside the back door. Kinna looked thankful to Andy and to the coolness of the night air. She inhaled deeply and sat on a step. Andy sat next to her. They sat in silence for several minutes.

"Do you want to go home?" Andy asked. Kinna looked at him and realized how crestfallen he looked.

She smiled at him. "I am going to be here for at least a month, Andy. I'll be back to hear you play every time you play. But, I am feeling a bit unwell and would like to go home now." She dropped her eyes and felt the rest of her strength fail her. Andy was immediately attentive, pulling her into his embrace. "Of course. Would you like me to take you?" She was already shaking her head as he asked.

"Maybe Mary can take me?" She asked with her eyes pleading. Andy was disappointed, but glad he wouldn't have to leave. The next group to play was led by a good friend of Andy's. That decided, they headed back in to ask Mary if she would drive Kinna home to Framington. Kinna called Ms. Locke to let her know she would be returning, and she offered to come and pick her up. This actually worked out well because Kinna was able to see some of the next band and Mary was able to stay.

A half an hour later Ms. Locke walked with her out to her car. They waved at the group of onlookers. Kinna was able to lean back and completely relax. Ms. Locke knew what Kinna had been through earlier that day and was sympathetic without being intrusive. They drove in silence all the way back. Kinna had fallen asleep in the relatively short trip. She couldn't believe how much could have happened in one day. It was nearly 24 hours since she first landed in Massachusetts.

When the two women walked over the threshold to the small two-story house, Kinna realized how comfortable she already felt coming "home". She turned to face Ms. Locke. The older woman put her arm over the young seer's shoulders. Kinna wasn't all that used to physical affection between herself and Elders. Even her mother was fairly cold with her. She wasn't sure if it was because she had been identified as a Seer or because her mother hadn't had any paranormal abilities.

Kinna sighed and leaned into Ms. Locke. She could feel the soft chuckle coming from the older woman. She turned to Ms. Locke with a grateful squeeze around the woman's middle and walked herself up the flight of stairs to Andy's room. She turned on the light and looked out the window but saw nothing but the reflection of the room behind her. She turned and climbed into the bed. She left the light on and didn't even change her clothes. She was asleep in minutes.

SPNSPNSPN

Dean had the window down and he was listening to the band playing. He kept watching the entrances but drummed his fingers to the sounds coming from inside the bar. Sam had pulled a jacket on to keep warm in the cold night air. They could feel rain in the air. It was a short reprieve during this week from the nearly continuous rain from over the past month.

Dean looked at his watch. Nearly 9. He looked up at the roof of the Impala. He enjoyed listening to the music but the only people he had seen were people coming out of the bar to smoke cigarettes. The front entrance remained propped open and people had to move around the corner to smoke. It must have been even too cold for the smokers, though, because they would smoke quickly and return to the warmth and safety of the building.

In a few moments, several groups of people left the building to congregate around the corner. They were talking and laughing loudly.

"Dean." Sam alerted. Dean looked at Sam and followed his eye gaze. Andy and his girlfriend exited the back door to sit on the step. The two brothers focused on the couple. They could see the concern on Andy's face, even from across the parking lot. The pair went back inside and music began playing again announcing to the groups in front that they should return. More of the same happened for thirty minutes before a hybrid SUV rolled up to the front. A tall woman with a familiar face exited the car and entered the bar's entrance.

"Sam, that was the house mom the youngest girls lived with in Framington." Dean said as he put the key in the ignition and rolled up his window.

Several people walked back out of the bar and escorted the young girlfriend of the guitarist in the band. Dean tightened his jaw and Sam noticed the no nonsense expression on his brother's face. They followed the SUV all the way back to Framington and parked behind a tall hedge between the street and a green belt easement. They watched the women enter the house and a few moments later, a light in an upstairs window illuminated. They saw the slender girl's silhouette briefly outlined in the soft lamplight. She moved away then but the light never went off. The boys decided that they would hang around and make sure nothing happened to her.

Around three in the morning, others arrived. The brothers recognized them from the bar. Dean started the ignition after the second story light went out. They drove in silence back to the motel. Sam could tell that something didn't fit yet. He wasn't sure what the question was so it was difficult to track the answer. Maybe in the morning they would talk about it and come up with a strategy together.

SPNSPNSPN

Saturday morning deepened into mid-day before either Kinna or Andy stirred. From the lack of sounds in the house, the rest of the occupants must have had similar plans for the day. The stream of golden sunlight had moved into cool shadows when Kinna turned her face to ponder her partner. She needed Andy, but she knew she also needed to figure out what she was going to do. She rose carefully so she wouldn't disturb the slumbering man.

She pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt with a sweater over. She tip-toed down the stairs on bare feet. She loved the feel of the hardwood and creak it made when she moved over it. She headed for the kitchen to find Ms. Locke sipping on a cup of tea. She smiled as Kinna came in. She rose to put a cup under the Keurig and dropped a k-cup in the machine. The cup was filled with English Breakfast Tea within moments. Kinna sat down at the table silently as Ms. Locke put the cup down. Together, the two women sat sipping the hot liquid. Kinna eyed her companion timidly.

"Ms. Locke?" Kinna ventured.

"Yes, my darling." Ms. Locke smiled around the rim of her cup.

"I need some advice."

Ms. Locke sobered, put her cup down and focused her attention on Kinna. "Girl advice or Druid advice?"

Kinna blushed and her eyes averted downward. Ms. Locke chuckled slightly.

Kinna coughed to clear her throat. "I know where I stand with Andy. I have always known. When we were younger, I knew he and I would have a connection. I am happy to have him." She took a drink before going on. "I am concerned about my vision and lack of training. I know there are so few of us who are true Seers, but I am worried they sent me here without having to finish my training." She sat quietly concentrating on the crux of her concern. "I know you need me to interpret what is written in the manuscript." She looked up at the older woman. "Tell me the story of the manuscript. I thought we didn't write things down. I mean why do I have to memorize the verbal histories if it was written?"

Ms. Locke picked up her cup and studied Kinna before she began. As she placed the cup down, she inhaled deeply. "In the days of darkness and pain," Locke spoke as though from memory, "There were few of us left. There were few who knew the histories and fewer still who were able to cast the rituals and draiocht. Danu and Freya appeared to one of the last Seers and told him that he must ensure others would know of the events of the time. Dragons terrorized the towns and villages and stole children of men- young woman who were pure and chaste. They meant to cast a spell to bring forth the creator of monsters… the Mother of All."

Kinna sat thoughtfully as Ms. Locke took another sip from her cup. "He wrote it in a language only another true Seer would be able to access…"

Locke nodded her head. "The document is at Yale. We must go there next week. The Druids at Anglesea have tried casting on a reproduction of the documents and it won't work."

Kinna considered this. She closed her eyes to explore the different information and the angles of "attack" to the problem. "The Mother wouldn't want us getting that information, would she?"

Locke shook her head sadly. It had occurred to her before this that Mother would want to keep Druids from accessing the information. But it wouldn't make sense to kidnap young women without powers. Why wouldn't she just steal the document? "There's more to this than the Mother and her struggle with the Father of Creation. There are more players and they are obscured. I need to see the original document and we need to get to it as soon as we can. That means we have to do something… less legal than you might like." Kinna said authoritatively.

When Kinna lifted her eyes to look at Ms. Locke, she was confused by the expression on her face. Locke's eyes were wide and her face was rigid. Her mouth was open slightly in bewilderment or awe. Kinna stifled a sigh. She stilled her own facial expression and plastered an air of indifference. Kinna rose and took the cup to the sink. "Thank you for the tea, Ms. Locke... and the information." Ms. Locke nodded by tried to swallow with difficulty.

Kinna walked out on to the porch. The sky was filling with grey cumulus clouds. The sun was nearly completely blotted from the sky. Kinna was unable to see many patches of blue through the stormy cover. The scent of moisture and earth filled her nose and she felt at peace. She looked around the lonely street. It was the first time since she came to America that she got to actually see the place where she found herself. She looked at the small light green buds on the white branches of the trees lining the street. She sat in the wicker furniture and just stared off down the street. She relaxed all her muscles and tried to make sense of the information she had.

She was lost in thought when she heard a man clear his throat. She looked up into the green eyes of a man with short dark hair standing next to a tall man with light brown hair. She looked into the eyes of the Son of Light.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclosure**: Supernatural= Not mine. Druids… probably hate me for taking such liberties with what they do. None of the people or places are real except.. you know… Yale, Salem State, Salem, and Framington. Nothing about them is really real as I portray them. I took mega license with it all. If I hit the target, it was coincidental

**A/N**: Nothing compares to a Supernatural DVD fest… except new eps.

**Chapter 6**

After Sam had done some checking to make sure no one else was kidnapped over night, the brothers took the Impala out to Framington. Dean tapped the steering wheel as he drove through traffic and down bumpy roads to the house. They parked, again, behind the hedges. As they climbed out of the car, Sam looked up at the house to see the young girl walking over to the porch furniture. He turned to see that his brother had also seen her. They both started walking up to the house's porch. They weren't moving stealthily, but they somehow didn't disturb her. In the morning light, Sam thought she looked less like a young girl. She had a faraway look on her face that bespoke of someone really pondering the world and its mysteries… except she seemed distressed. Dean slowed his approach and seemed to behave like one who would approach a frightened child… trying not to spook her. He smiled and waited for her to register the visitors. When she did look up, she was surprised but not fearful as she was last night.

"Hey." Dean said sheepishly. "We were wondering if we could talk to you a bit about some of your roommates." Dean pulled out a badge and ID to show her that they were State Police Detectives. She looked at the brothers quizzically.

"State Police?" She asked. Sam saw the corners of her mouth twitch as though she were trying to hold back a smile. Her eyes were sparkling and mischievous. "Well, …_Detective_.. What would you like to know?"

The smile she was trying to contain lit up her bright blue eyes. Dean wondered why she couldn't have been on this porch yesterday when he came by the first time. The young girl was so much more pleasant, when she wasn't terrified of him. She was a definite improvement over Ms. Locke, the house matron. Dean sat down on one of the adjacent chairs and Sam leaned against the post.

"Well, Miss…" Dean waited for her to supply her name.

This time Kinna was unable to resist smiling at him. "Kinna Woodward." She responded.

Dean smiled broadly, "Miss Woodward, do you know Abbey McCall and Linda Wells?"

"No." Kinna replied simply. She contained the giggles she felt welling up inside her despite the fact that she knew this was a very serious subject. He had such a perplexed look on his face. Dean shifted slightly and looked at his brother. "They lived here though. Your house matron confirmed that. You didn't know them?"

"No." She replied again.

"No, they didn't live here or no, you didn't know them?" Dean persisted.

Kinna smiled again. "Yes, they lived here. No, I didn't know them."

Dean was getting frustrated. "This really isn't a joking matter, Miss Woodward. If you are holding back information, you would be obstructing our investigation and could put the women's lives at risk."

Kinna sobered. "I realize that this is not a joking matter, sir. If I believed for a moment you were a detective for the State Police, I might take you a bit more seriously."

Dean was taken aback by this statement. He fidgeted and shifted but turned back to Kinna. "What makes you think I'm not a detective for the State Police, Miss Woodward?"

Kinna looked directly into his eyes and held his focus for a few moments before he looked away at his brother, who was no longer leaning against the post. Kinna grinned again.

"Do you really want to help the girls, _Detective_?" Kinna asked him.

Dean nodded. "Look, believe me or not, my job is to find the girls and stop whatever is taking them." Kinna saw the truth in his words. His earnest declaration reminded her to who she was speaking. She remembered her first impression that she would trust him. Making a decision, she nodded. She looked over her shoulder into the closed living room window. She saw some forms walking around behind the curtains.

"We can't speak here. If I leave right now, they will panic." She grinned shyly and looked down in embarrassment.

Dean reached into his pocket and withdrew a business card with his detective alias and cell number. "Call us when you're ready." The men left then and Kinna watched them depart before going into the house.

_Oh, by the light! What did I just do?_ Kinna caught her breath and stood still by the door. Andy walked up to her and put his hands on her waist. He looked into her eyes and knew something was wrong. She shook her head slightly to clear the fear and uncertainty. She smiled up at him and they went into the living room together.

SPNSPNSPN

Kinna nervously twisted the paper napkin in her hands as she listened to Andy continue telling her about the plans he made for them for the next week. She was only marginally paying attention and made uncommitted responses as she scanned the sidewalk for the Hunters.

"And then, I thought we could book a flight to Mars because I hear they need moms up there…" Andy stated.

"That sounds good." Kinna responded as she continued to fretfully look out the restaurant windows.

"Kinna!" Andy finally admonished. Kinna turned her focus to Andy.

"I'm sorry, Andy. I just…" Kinna caught a glimpse of the men she was waiting to arrive. "Andy, listen. I don't want you to freak out or anything. Just… just trust me." She hurriedly finished just as the brothers approached the booth near the back of the nearly empty restaurant. Andy looked at her in confusion but turned his attention to the two men approaching. He recognized them from last night. Andy immediately went rigid and defensive. He stood as the brothers stood at the table.

"Andy." Kinna warned.

Her tone drew Dean's attention immediately. This wasn't the tone from a young frightened girlfriend of the bands guitarist. It held authority and demanded respect. He could understand from the tone and set of the girl's face how the others were so deferential to her last night.

Andy, for his part, responded appropriately. He moved to sit next to Kinna and placed his hand on hers in a self-conscious display of possessiveness. Dean figured he needn't worry. She didn't hold any romantic interest for him. He grimaced though because the boy may cause a problem for the Hunters in their pursuit of information.

"Well, _Detectives_, I'm happy you were able to find us." Kinna began. Dean thought she was saying this, not for their sakes, but for Andy's. Andy flinched in confusion and surprise. He tried to hide it but… well, Dean was a better poker player. Andy covered his surprise with a scoff at the thought of these two as Detectives. Dean shrugged.

"Maybe we can drop the pretense, gentlemen." Kinna said. "You know my name. I told you his last night." She looked at them expectantly.

Dean took a few moments to decide how he would handle this. He sent a sidelong glance at his brother who indicated indifference by his body language. Dean sighed and shifted to a more relaxed position. It might make things easier to not have to keep up the pretense of State Police with these two. He did some quick calculations about how he thought the two kids' might aid them depending on his decision now.

"I'm Dean and this is my brother, Sam." He said. "We kind of specialize in helping people when the circumstances are… weird."

Kinna grinned largely. "Weird?"

Dean shrugged but didn't elaborate.

"Well this qualifies, I suppose. Andy knew the girls…" Andy shot a look of shock at Kinna. "All of them." Kinna concluded. Andy took his hand off of hers and stared at her. She looked directly at Andy. The cool look she directed to him was decidedly not one a kid would use. This was a completely different person than the brothers had seen last night.

Andy folded his arms over his chest in defiance. He lifted his chin belligerently as if in challenge. Dean just looked at him defiantly in response. Sam had to intervene.

"Andy, if you could help us with information, we hope to find the girls and stop the… person… who took them. We just want to help. We don't want this sort of thing happening to anyone else." Sam said in his most accommodating tone. Kinna had to admit, these two worked well together.

Andy considered the request. He looked at the two Hunters and then looked, helplessly, at Kinna. Her expression didn't soften of relent. She expected him to divulge information they were told to keep within the Circle. They were told to remain neutral and out of this. Kinna was deliberately ignoring her instructions. More than that, she expected him to do so as well.

"What.. exactly.. did you want to know?" Andy spoke in a defeated whisper.

Sam asked Andy about if he knew about the Druidry and the routines the girls had in common. Andy looked miserable but answered with some prompting from Kinna. She filled in places about Druidry he was unwilling to answer. He put his head in his hands as she betrayed them.

"None of the girls had any special… abilities… or any position of authority. They were not 'special' as such. There is really no reason they should have been taken at all." Kinna told them.

Dean sharpened his interest at the words 'special abilities'. He leaned across the table to force her to come face to face with him. "What do you mean by 'special abilities'?" he asked intently.

Kinna swallowed and felt the blood rush out of her. Her heart rate quickened. This was the Hunter she saw and that frightened her last night. This was the barely contained creature that would deal damage to his enemies. He was dangerous and had potential to be like a wild fire, out of control. She pulled back into the cushion of the booth. Andy was no help. He felt betrayed by her and still held his head in his hands on the table. It was Sam that came to her aid.

Sam gripped his brother's shoulder and squeezed. Dean seemed to snap out of the focus he had attained. He looked again at Kinna and realized he frightened her. He leaned back as well. Sam looked at his brother with concern.

"What can you tell us about the special abilities, Kinna? We may need to know this information if we are going to help the girls." Sam asked more smoothly, but Kinna was still ruffled.

"What are you two doing tonight?" she asked. Andy's head shot up to look at his girlfriend. Her eyes shot sideways at Andy but then looked at the brothers.

"What did you have in mind?" Sam asked.

SPNSPNSPN

"What the hell, Kinna?" Andy blew at her when they were alone.

"Relax, Andy. I know what I'm doing." She said with aplomb.

"Kinna," he said as if he were talking to a child, "They are Hunters!"

She looked at Andy. Her eyes never wavered from his. She wished she could explain to him without making him afraid. "I know." She went back to putting herbs and candles in her black knapsack.

Andy sat heavily on his bed. He gaped at her. She has gone insane!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclosure**: Supernatural= Not mine. Druids… probably hate me for taking such liberties with what they do. None of the people or places are real except.. you know… Yale, Salem State, Salem, and Framington. Nothing about them is really real as I portray them. I took mega license with it all. If I hit the target, it was coincidental

Chapter 7

Kinna and Andy went to the car with Kinna carrying her black bag full of various components. Andy was unhappy and his face and body language told the tale. He was tense and he slammed doors. Kinna watched him act out in pique with a frown on his face. She tried to appear as unaffected as possible. She put on an air of dispassion so she would keep up her courage. She needed Andy. She knew she needed him. He would not have any idea why she needed him. He never would realize the extent to which she needed him and she was never going to tell him. She looked a little sorrowfully at him as he threw a bag of his own in the back.

The two sat in the front seat. Andy had put the key in the ignition but had not yet started the engine. They sat staring out the windshield. Andy's hands clenched the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. She knew he would ask. She waited. She had been expecting the question since they left the diner.

"Why?" He choked in agony. The tears of anger and despair ran down his cheeks.

Kinna looked at him with love and compassion now.

"I have information you don't, my Andy." She said in a whisper. "I have told the Circle in Anglesea about my vision, about the apocalypse, about what is coming… and they didn't _do_ anything. I had a vision yesterday that blasted me off my feet. I know that you don't understand this. I'm doing what I think we need to do to keep people safe." She looked then at her hands placed in her lap.

"They're Hunters, Kin." He said.

Kinna nodded. "They're more than Hunters, Andy." She looked at him again. She tried to convey all her meaning to him in the one look.

Andy gawked at her. He spoke barely audibly. "What did you see? Did you see them?"

Kinna nodded. This time she let out a gasping breath and began to cry. "I did." She said. "We have to stop it, Andy… You didn't see them… the girls. I did!" She was yelling now, tears streaming freely down her face. Andy looked stricken. He reached over to her and grabbed her, pulled her into his arms. He squeezed her and buried his face into her hair. He knew she was in pain. It was the kind of pain that outstripped his own. She knew things and had seen things. She had nightmares about the things she had seen.

Andy remembered when they first met. Kinna was so young when he was presented to the Circle. He had a gift for music. He was able to recreate any piece played for him a couple of times on piano, guitar or mandolin. He was 16 years old and Kinna was 12. Her mother left her at the school so she could be trained. He thought she was the cutest thing. She would pester him until she drove him nuts. Every time he flirted with girls his age, she would come by and stare at the girls. She knew how to push people's buttons… and how! She ran off every girl he tried to cozy up to. He got so frustrated with her one day, he finally yelled at her to cut it out. She looked at him with those big blue eyes. He really looked at her in her little girl uniform from school at odds with the expression on her face. She walked up to him and looked up. He felt he had to sit down, so powerful was the effect of her scrutiny. She touched his face then and looked into his eyes with that disturbing regard she has.

"You know that you can spend time with all these girls, but they are transitory. You have already found the one who will be the love of your life. Why would you sully what you will have with frivolous encounters now?" She looked at him with an earnestness he was unable to deny. Several days after that, Andy found out she was a true Seer.

He remembered her running into his arms while they were at school. They would hide away in a broom closet or sit close together in the field or in the woods. She would tell him about some of her dreams, about her visions, about her fears. He would hold her close and rock her. He felt protective of her and soon, he knew it was more.

She turned 14 and she was beginning to remind him that she was not a little girl any more. He would still play the protector for her and a confidante, but he would never succumb to her flirtation or seduction. It wasn't easy. She was wise beyond her years and she knew his every weakness. When she turned 17, she was in Cardiff. She had gone with friends to a concert there. She was having coffee with some girls and he didn't even recognize her when she was sitting just a few tables away. She deliberately walked to him, politely interrupted the discussion he was having with his mates and promptly stuck her tongue down his throat. He was so embarrassed by the sudden display of affection that it took him a while to recover his wits. When he looked up into her eyes, all she said was, "Hi, Andy." He was intoxicated by her. He walked around thinking of her when she wasn't with him. She's the center of his world when she was.

He pulled away from her slightly. He sucked it up. "What do you want us to do, Lover?"

He could feel all the tension and anxiety leave her. She sank back into his chest. She tightened her grip around his middle. A ragged sob escaped from her. He stroked her hair. He covered her with kisses. He would do anything.

They parked the car in the lot nearest the Beineke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale. Andy had insisted they leave the car in the brightly lit parking lot. Kinna was not happy about the decision, but she didn't want to risk him leaving her now. The two exited the vehicle and began walking up to the campus. A small electric cart with a yellow spinning light on the roof drove passed them, but they hid in the darkened shadows of an alcove. After the security vehicle passed, the two young people slipped around corners and along walls until they got to their destination. Every time Kinna saw a camera, she whispered an incantation that disrupted the electrical energies around it- Andy called it a "Paranormal EMP". They stayed low and hidden in the loading dock of the Library. They were both peering out into the courtyard when Kinna was startled by a hand on her shoulder. They both whipped their head around to face Dean and Sam. She got control of her adrenaline and took deep breaths.

"So, what's the plan here?" Dean asked.

Kinna looked at all the men hunched down near her in the portico to the building. "I need to see a manuscript." She declared.

The brothers looked at each other; Dean scrubbed his face as he looked up. Kinna got the impression he was asking for divine assistance. He very well could have been. She wondered if they would hear him.

She turned to the brothers. "Can you pick the lock?" She asked.

Dean looked again at Sam who shrugged. He held out his hand to his little brother and Sam placed the lock picks in Dean's open palm. "There's probably an alarm on this." Dean said as he walked to the door. Kinna stood nearby. She concentrated and Para-EMP'd the alarm on the door.

"It's off now. " She reported.

Dean stared at her, his eyes narrow. His hand was hidden behind his back. She could feel the buildup of tension. She looked up into Dean's eyes, then glanced at the others. Sam looked on edge as he focused on his Dean. They were both in fighters' stances. She realized that she exposed herself, and not in a good way. Andy looked confused why they weren't going in.

"The guard isn't going to be by for a few minutes but we should probably take this discussion out of prying eyesight. What do you guys think?" Andy complained.

She watched as the door opened for Dean as he effortlessly picked the lock. He flourished his hand to welcome her into the building. She hustled inside and the others followed her. She closed her eyes to focus on finding what she needed when they were inside. She moved fluidly to the elevators and pushed the button. The Winchesters and Andy caught up with her as they waited for the lift to come to the ground floor. Dean grabbed Kinna's arm. Andy let out a loud protest as she whimpered under his grip.

Dean got very close to Kinna's ear and asked, "What are you?" This was the Hunter she had seen in the bar that frightened her to tears. She knew he thought she was some kind of evil-doer and things were black and white for Hunters. She nearly buckled and fell to the floor with the amount of pressure he had on her arm. She saw that he was astonished at his own ferocity. Andy grabbed Dean to shove him, but the Hunter outweighed him and had the added advantage of years of training and practice Andy didn't.

"Let her go!" Andy yelled. Sam looked around the empty hall.

"Dean." Sam admonished hoarsely. Dean let up his grip enough to allow Kinna to rise from the floor. Andy had murder in his eyes, but he had no way of carrying out his desire. The bell rang to announce the arrival of the lift and the group got in. Dean put his face right up to Kinna's.

"Tell me."

"I'm a Seer." She whimpered piteously. His grip relaxed marginally.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked. "Like you're psychic?"

"No," Kinna sniffed. "Not psychic. I can see things that are and that will be. I can call on the energies of living things to affect the world around me. I can…" She stopped as Dean's demeanor was not improving. He had a look of disgust and disdain directed toward her. Andy was being held by Sam and was unable to go to her.

"You can what?" He asked through clenched teeth.

"I can… see the truth of things." She prevaricated.

"What kind of truth?" Dean asked. The elevator rang the desired floor and the doors opened. Kinna pulled as Dean tried to leave.

"Wait!" She called. She focused her energy. She had to target the cameras without sending the elevator car plummeting down with the Para-EMP. It was difficult with Dean still holding her arm. She pulled the power from around her and fried the camera. There was a small puff of smoke and o-zone that accompanied the pulse she sent. Dean looked up at the sizzled camera and let go of Kinna's arm. She rubbed it and pushed past him to enter the part of the library that is restricted except to scholars and researchers with permission to access the most precious of the collection.

"What kind of truth?" Dean asked again.

Kinna looked back at the mutinous expression on Andy's face. Sam stayed very close to him. She stopped and turned to face Dean.

"I knew the truth of you, Son of Light, the moment I felt your presence. You were at my home the day I saw the girls locked up in their prison. I saw you again in your true aspect at Dilseacht. I have seen the truth of the Judeo-Christian apocalypse. I have seen the Earth shake and protest as the Mother spilled from her bowels to walk once more in our world. I seek the truth now, even as you do. I seek the place and time we may see an end to the feud between the parents of this world. Mother of All and Father of Creation will have their final confrontation." She paused for breath. Andy was stunned, his mouth agape. Dean was quiet but thoughtful. Sam looked determined and worried.

Kinna turned away from them now. She knew there was little time to look for her prize. After nearly a half an hour, she found it in a glass case. She sizzled the alarm and turned to Dean who was still thinking about the information she had handed him.

"Can you open this?"

Sam went to his brother and retrieved the lock picks. He opened the case and Kinna pulled the thick sheaf of vellum out of the case. She turned and took the sheaf to her bag. She began pulling things out. Dean stood over her shoulder watching intently.

She looked up for a split second and then back to her preparations. "We tried to do this with copies… printouts… it never worked. It has to be the real document." She said as she pulled out vials and satchels of herbal components, bowls, and long metal pins that resembled iron knitting needles.

"What exactly is 'this'?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Kinna stopped momentarily. She lifted her chin to face Dean. "This is called the Voynich Manuscript. It was written in the Renaissance by a Seer… one of the last during that period of time. He saw what would come and saw what had happened 10 thousand years ago when the Mother walked." She pointed at the vellum pages. "This… is going to tell me what her plans are. This is going to reveal what we must do." She busied herself again.

"Do?… about the Mother?" Dean continued. "What do you know about the Mother?"

"We know we are supposed to remain neutral." Andy asserted. He had been quiet but he felt compelled to remind Kinna of the instructions they were given. Kinna and Andy stared each other down. Kinna blinked first. She returned to work setting up the alter and protections.

They heard a noise. Kinna continued more quickly. Dean nodded at Sam and they split up, pulling guns and walking around the cases. Kinna kept glancing up even as she kept working. They were here. She knew they would come, but she thought she would have more time. She worked frantically but took as much care as possible. She began chanting and she lit the aromatics and squeezed the contents of vials into the bronze bowl.

Sam and Dean slowly moved in tandem, one then the other, right then left. They held their guns in front of them and their eyes scanned the area. The sound they heard was low and deep and caused them to pause. They checked each other's location. Dean sent a non-verbal to Sam which he acknowledged and they changed direction to track the sound. Dean began to move and Sam mirrored his actions. They crept forward slowly. Then, the hunters saw them. Two figures in cloaks and giant dogs, but the dogs looked like no dogs they had seen. Dean shot one of the dogs, and it turned its head to face him.

Dean looked shocked that the bullets didn't even phase the dog. The dog, for its part, growled and encouraged its companion to join it with a lurch. The two dogs began to lumber stiltedly toward the brothers. A foul odor wafted toward the Hunters. They both began to shoot at the large black shapes. The growling continued and the boys began backing up away from the beasts.

"Hey!" yelled Dean. "You might want to think about speeding this up!"

The dogs shuffled quickly but didn't run. When they got closer, Sam saw that the dog closest to him had parts of his actual ribcage showing. The smell of decay and rot filled the room. _Shit!_

"Dean!" Sam yelled. "They're zombies!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclosure**- I don't own the characters or anything else Supernatural. Although I wouldn't mind a Winchester for my birthday if anyone is interested. Voynich Manuscript is in Yale and I don't have that either.

**A/N**: Some mild language, simulated violence and ZOMBIES! Zombies, zombies, Zombies!

**Chapter 8**

Dean and Sam held their guns at the ready to shoot the zombie dogs when they attacked again. The dogs emitted a growling hum and they seemed to come from all around the boys. The brothers cast their eyes all around the room searching for the undead beasts. They were aware of each other in the space and all of John Winchester's training and years of hunting together engrained in their every move. Each step placed with precision, each movement deliberate. The only other sound that filled the room was chanting from Kinna as she desperately worked the ritual that would allow her to read the manuscript. Over the soprano chanting of the young Seer, they could hear a guttural language in deeper voices.

"Sam…" Dean terse voice called.

Sam looked right and left. He caught his brother's eye and shook his head. He couldn't see them, but he could hear them and smell them.

Suddenly, the growl was to Sam's left. He shifted his aim and saw the glowing green of the thing's eyes. He shot as the creature sprang at Sam's head. The drooling gaping mouth of the beast attempted to seize his face. Its breath was rancid and made him gasp and gag. Sam had difficulty aiming at the creature's head. He needed both hands to fend off its massive body and toothy mouth. The weight of the creature drove Sam to the ground.

Dean ran to his brother's aid and was nearly to him when the other dog creature leapt at him from the right. The creature crashed Dean into a glass display case, shattering it. Dean rolled instinctively and gained his footing, landing in a crouch with his gun at the ready. The creature circled to the Hunter's left, between Dean and his brother, the menacing growl accentuated by glowing eyes. Dean sited and fired, but the dog creature leapt before Dean actually squeezed the trigger. It lunged near Dean, bounded off a case and landed with a crunch on top of him. He struggled to keep the gaping maw off him.

Kinna continued to chant even as she pulled a wooden box from her bag. The wood was worn and smooth and dark with age. She cast surreptitious glances as the boys struggling with the zombie creatures. She frantically pulled a ream of paper from the bottom of the box. She placed the sheaf of vellum in the bottom and placed the blank paper on top of the manuscript. Kinna closed the box while she continued the chant becoming more frantic but clearly articulating the syllables and enunciating the sounds of each phrase. She picked up a paintbrush and dipped it into the mixture. She painted sigils on the box and directed a small amount of power to activate the spell. The sigils glowed. The zombie beasts turned their attention to Kinna then and jumped off the Winchesters to focus on the spellcaster. Kinna looked up at Andy.

"Andy! Take this box and run!" She shoved the box into Andy's arms. "Stay near Sam." She whispered. He shook his head.

"No! I stay with you." He disagreed.

"Andy, I need to help with dispelling these creatures and I need you to get that document to the Circle!" Andy put on a face of pure will and defiance. Kinna saw the slinking inky figures moving toward them. Kinna began to panic for both of them now. "Andy, I've seen this…" she began. "We can get out of this, but certain decisions need to be made for that to happen." She saw the zombies getting closer. Dean was on his feet now pointing the gun at one and Sam was ready to fire at the other. Sam shot his gun at the beast's head, spreading black and grey matter all over the cases. The creature fell like the corpse it was. Kinna pushed Andy toward the Hunter. "Go! NOW!" She yelled. Andy began to move as Dean shot at the other creature but hit its shoulder.

Kinna grabbed the iron pins. She began to run to the shadowy figures who she could hear were chanting. She threw one pin like a dart at the one nearest her. He turned to face her. She could hear a snarling curse from his lips. The pin had struck the figure and lodged in his arm. She saw his eyes glow under the cowl. She felt herself trembling all through her. She knew what was coming. She knew it before they opened the door to the library. She was, however, surprised to see the shambling re-animated corpse of a security guard come forward and grab her. She screamed.

Dean finally shot the zombie dog and was running toward the place he heard the girl scream. He saw her in the grip of a bear hug from a zombie guard. The guard held her too close for Dean to make a headshot. He kept his Desert Eagle trained on the guard's head waiting for an opportunity. He watched the girl struggle and stifle the tears he saw standing in her eyes.

Sam came from behind Dean, aiming his weapon at the guard as well. Kinna panicked even more. "Get Andy out! Get him out! Get to safety!" She wailed as she struggled. She flailed her legs. Andy sobbed softly at Sam's side. He wanted to fly to her side, to help, but he was paralyzed with fear for her and for himself. He watched the two Hunters move forward. As soon as Dean and Sam could make eye contact, Sam nodded at Dean's non-verbal command. Sam looked over his shoulder at Andy. He backed up to where the Bard stood with the oaken casket. Sam reached out and grabbed Andy's arm, swung him around, and pulled him to the stairwell exit door. Kinna watched them go, and whimpered her distress. She turned back to Dean. Her hopeless blue eyes locked with his determined green. She stopped flailing and took a deep breath.

Just then, one of the shrouded figures emerged from the shadows. He laughed with a hollow mirthless chuckle deep in his chest. He approached the tableau with glowing eyes focused on Dean.

"Put your feeble weapon away, human." He intoned.

"Come any closer and I'll show you how feeble my weapon is, Voldemort." He taunted.

The cloaked figure halted his approach. He watched Dean with amusement. "Our ends are not at odds with one another, Hunter. You wish to preserve the world as it is… so do I. I would not have the archangel reignite the apocalypse, nor would I have the Mother crush the humans to populate the world with Her monsters."

Dean regarded the creature with skepticism. "Oh, yeah?" Dean snarked. "I suppose you're running on a platform of peace on earth, puppies for every citizen under five and a round for your friends at the bar?" Dean moved fractionally in the direction of the zombie with his gun still trained for a head shot. Kinna watched him and went as still as she could.

The creature didn't answer but instead grinned, barely discernible in the shadows of the hood. From the angle Dean was now, he could see the grey skin under the dark cowl of the cloak the creature wore. He tried to make out what kind of creature it was. He paused briefly to get a better look. "So, why don't you let the girl go?"

The eerie metallic cough that Dean guessed was a laugh in response set his spine tingling. Kinna blanched completely. Her eyes went wide. She knew what the creature was now. She looked at it quickly lowering her protection to be sure. She almost felt the bottom drop out of her stomach.

"Dean! He's a.. argh" Kinna attempted before the zombie lifted its hand to cut off her air supply. Dean tightened his jaw and swung the gun to the creature commanding the zombie.

"Let her go, Ugly. Just the grown-ups need to be here for this." Dean shifted his stance slightly. Kinna was gasping but she was still breathing.

"I think not…" Now, the creature looked at his prize. He strode to the zombie's side, Dean's pistol tracking his movements. "… I have waited too long." He stroked the side of Kinna's slightly red cheek, tears streaking her young face. Her eyes shifted to a spot behind Dean and widened. Dean took the cue quickly rolling to his left before the other cowled creature grabbed him from behind. He came up on to his knee and fired his weapon into the creature's face. When he turned to face the zombie lord again, only the guard remained. Kinna and the cloaked figure were gone. Dean dispatched the undead guard by shooting him in the face twice at close range.

After a complete circuit of the floor, Dean came to the conclusion that the girl was gone. He departed via the stairs and went to where he parked the Impala to find Sam and the openly weeping musician. Andy's tear-streaked face lifted to watch the older Winchester brother approach… without Kinna.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer**: You know… it occurred to me, that I didn't declaim the use of "Son of Light" describing Dean. That is fairly well used terminology to describe a character with notable heritage, but David Reed and Rebecca Dessertine used the term in "War of the Sons". It was not an intentional "borrowing" of their term but, I would be remiss if I didn't make the appropriate citation to them now. Sorry. Also, Supernatural is not mine, neither are druids (though I completely take advantage of what I do know of them to turn the dogma sideways) and The Voynich Manuscript is not mine and may have nothing to do with anything written here (but, who would know really since no one can figure out what it DOES say?)

**A/N**: I appreciate the alerts and favorite listing of my work! I am writing mostly to get the ideas out of my friggen head so I can sleep! I feel so warm and fuzzy finding notifications from you wonderful readers! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

**Chapter 9**

Andy was silent on the drive from Yale to Framington. Dean glanced at the rear-view mirror several times to see if he was still breathing. Tears flooded the young man's eyes and fell in rivers down his cheeks unchecked. He was definitely in shock. Dean looked at his brother briefly and Sam looked over his shoulder at the kid in the back seat.

"Andy," Sam called softly, "We really need you to answer some questions if we are going to get Kinna back for you."

Andy shook his head marginally but the far away gaze he affected still lingered. Andy sniffed and moved his leg slightly, shifting the weight of the box on his lap.

"What is so important about the manuscript? Andy, who or what were those things? Do you know?" Sam persisted.

Andy seemed to recover some of his wits. He focused his bloodshot eyes on Sam and he scoffed under his breath. "I don't know why she even trusted you two. She knows who you are; she knows we were told to watch for Hunters! You want to know?" Andy was screaming at the two brothers in the front seat. "Google it!" Andy gave a strangled cry and covered his face with his hands. A moment of labored and strangled sobs later, Andy continued with forced voice – pain evident in every syllable. "She… will… die… horribly." His voice hitched as he tried to catch his breath. He began muttering quietly to himself and held his head in his hands.

The two brothers drove on, occasionally looking at the grieving man in the back seat, but they no longer made any attempt to retrieve information from him. Hours later, they rolled up to the house in Framington. Andy didn't look like he even registered the fact. Sam got out of the car and went back to the passenger door to aid the young musician. Andy's movements were stilted and mechanical. He didn't resist Sam's attempt to guide him.

Dean also exited the Impala. The house was dark and there was no movement to be seen. He went to ring the bell while his brother aided Andy. By the time the two men reached the porch, the lights within were beginning to illuminate the entryway.

Ms. Locke answered the door in a soft pink robe. She took in the scene of a weeping Andy and two young Hunters with one swift sweep of her eyes and moved aside to admit the men entrance. She hurried then to Andy's other side and nodded to Sam. They guided him into the living room as more residents of the house emerged from their interrupted sleep. Morgen, the man with soft blonde hair with Healing gift went to Andy's side as he sat clutching the oaken box. When Locke was sure that Andy's care was safely in the hands of the young druid, she went to make some tea for Andy, herself and their "guests". Sam and Dean stood to the side as the people in the house scurried about the room. Ms. Locke handed each of the Hunters a mug steaming with tea. They looked at each other with equal expressions of perplexity and placed the mugs down in unison. They turned to leave as the people in the house concentrated on Andy. Ms. Locke blocked their way to the door.

"You will not leave, Hunters. Not before explaining what happened." Her hard expression like granite, her eyes like agates, stopped them in their tracks.

The boys went inside again and the others began to settle like birds roosting on ledges of counters, furniture, and floor; all eyes were on Andy and the Hunters. Dean shifted uncomfortably. Sam looked at Andy who continued to stare into space. The man sitting next to him had his head down and eyes closed with his arm draped across Andy's shoulders. Andy began to stir and grip the box more closely to him. The man next to him whispered to Andy and Andy seemed to turn toward his companion a touch. Dean straightened his shoulders to face the group. Sam figured maybe Dean wasn't the most sensitive person to explain the events in the library.

Just before Dean started to explain, Andy croaked a single word. "Wait."

Andy still had his friend's arm draped over him, but he looked up with red-rimmed, bloodshot and still visibly leaking eyes to gaze around the room. Dean stood still and waited for Andy to continue. Sam shot a look of compassion and empathy at the young man.

"Kinna called for their help." Andy's voice was hoarse and his breathing uneven, but he was beginning to look more pulled together than he had since Dean returned to the Impala in New Haven. "The Seer enlisted them to aid her in retrieving this document." It was spoken precisely and seemed somehow like a ritual phrase to stir action in the group. Confusion swayed from face to face. Andy looked up at Ms. Locke. He pushed the box toward the house matron. Ms Locke looked carefully at the old wooden box, sigils painted on its finish, and what that could represent before her eyes widened and her face paled. Her hands shook as she gathered the box to her and sank to the floor with it. With reverence and awe, she lifted the lid. The other druids in the room had their focus completely on the matron and the box on the floor. Again, the hunters were baffled about the attention and the unraveling of this event.

The room was still and silent but for the breathing of the people around the room and the haggard and hitched sobs of the young musician. As she opened and looked at the contents of the box, Ms. Locke's gasp drew the undivided attention of the Winchester brothers. She quickly slapped the lid closed on the contents. She rose and pointed at the Winchesters as she gripped the box with her other hand. "You must come with me, gentlemen. The rest of you, please, find your beds. We will have more information in the morning. Morgen, will you look after Andy?" At the young man's nod, Ms. Locke looked meaningfully at Sam and Dean to follow her. They fell in line behind her as she moved to her room. She began to set up the call in the Circle. Ms. Locke was harshly muttering under her breath, but her eyes had lost the hard and unyielding look to them in favor of concern and fear.

She pointed with her free hand toward a kitchen chair commanding imperiously for Sam to bring a couple in to the room. She called the two heads of the Circles in Anglesea and in Salem, Oregon. It took a while to finally reach people to rouse the West Coast contingent, but Anglesea was assisting with calls and soon the faces of three Druids from Oregon were visible on the web conference.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Ms. Locke greeted the leaders of her order. Six faces in the screen focused concerned and aggravated expressions to the New England group. "We have a problem."

Ms. Locke efficiently ran through the events, asking the Hunters to clarify or supply pieces of information regarding the zombies and hooded men at the library. Sam paid close attention to the reactions of all the people on the screen. He noticed one woman from the British group fell to her chair and paled visibly at the discovery that the young woman had been taken and seemed to have lost all interest in further details. Sam noticed the other men and women were more insulted about the loss of a Seer.

"This is all well and good, Dumbledore," Dean finally snapped as the man in Anglesea was once again reiterating the need for the group to remain neutral until the confrontation between order and chaos. "But there is a young and probably freaked out kid being held by Death Eaters and you want to… what? Andy said she would die horribly if we don't get her back."

Sam knew Dean was annoyed at the disregard the others had for the safety of this young woman. The Hunters didn't have any real loyalty to her, but the same people or creatures who took her, may have taken the other women. Sam could tell his brother was losing what was left of his patience with the people on the computer screen.

The man in Anglesea looked through the webcam with his eyes narrowed to slits. The woman who had remained, more or less, catatonic suddenly looked up. Sam felt her pleading to them through the span of thousands of miles as she looked at the Hunters on her own screen. Her mouth was moving but neither Sam nor Dean was able to determine what she was saying.

"These… hunters… Why have they been brought into the affairs that do not concern them?" The man with narrowed eyes inquired. Immediately, the woman to his right cast her eyes away again.

Dean was about to retort when Ms. Locke straightened and said, "The Seer recruited them to her cause." She reached down and pulled the box into view. She reached in and lifted the whole ream of crisp white paper now covered in words the people gathered in person and electronically could make out. From under the crisp white sheets, Ms. Locke carefully pulled the yellowed vellum with green and blue drawings and undecipherable text. All eyes from far away enlarged and mouths gaped.

"That's not…" the man who had monopolized the conversation stuttered.

Ms. Locke nodded. "This is the writing of the Lost Seer Cian detailing the events of Chaos and Laws as he 'saw' it during the Dark Times." She held up the once blank pages of modern paper. "Kinna cast a spell to translate and scribe the document so we would have it."

"That's not druidic, Locke." The very flamboyant looking woman from Oregon whispered in awe.

Ms. Locke shook her head slowly. "It is from a Book of the Shadow."

The woman who had been nearly catatonic began weeping hysterically now. "No!" came her strangled gasp. Her hands went to her mouth and tears began to fall.

Dean looked from the screen to the woman standing with him. "What just happened?" He whispered to Locke.

"Kinna drew the attention of Necromancers." She reported.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural isn't mine. Really.

**A/N**: Can't believe how useful working out to music that might have been played on the Impala's tape deck helps with creative juices! Metallica is very conducive to a good physical workout, too!

**Chapter 10**

Sam Winchester lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. It had been a long night followed by a very long and emotionally exhausting morning. He couldn't help but feel for the group of druids who had their world knocked sideways for them over the abduction of their Seer. Sam still wasn't altogether sanguine regarding the issues that had them so completely despondent aside from losing one of their own.

Ms. Locke had received instructions of some kind from her friends on the web conference call. She emerged from her room saddened and defeated. She had shared certain details with the young residents while leaving many out to which Sam and Dean were privy. Andy wasn't present. Neither was Morgen.

The men and women departed for class or assignments and Ms. Locke was swarmed by some of the residents of the house for more information, asking questions about which they could only speculate. Ms. Locke sent them on their way. Most of the concern the others had were centered, as was the man from the Circle, on the fact that their Seer was gone. They didn't seem to ask or concern themselves with the fact that a young girl may be killed. Sam really didn't understand this.

Sam and Dean had returned to their motel room to get some sleep before they picked up the investigation again. Ms. Locke "officially" sanctioned them against interference. Unofficially, though, she offered any information or support the boys needed to find the girls.

The whole situation seemed to fly in the face of human nature. He couldn't understand the focus on the young girl's title as opposed to her as a person. They spoke of the loss of wisdom and knowledge more than the girl. Sam looked to his right to regard his brother. Dean was sleeping with his arm draped nearly to the floor and his face scrunched between his pillow and the edge of his bed. Sam sighed deeply. There was a piece to the puzzle missing. He was having a hard time putting the mystery together.

He rose from his bed to stand staring at his computer on the room's lone table. He really should sleep, but the mystery nagged at the back of his brain. He sat down in the chair with his hands positioned over the laptop's keyboard staring at the blank screen. If he turned it on, he would research instead of sleep. He heard Dean's deep intake of breath and shifting squeak of the bed springs seemingly in response to that notion. Sam sighed and glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping brother. When he turned back to the computer, he reached over and booted it up.

Two hours later, Sam was scanning the monitor when Dean sat bolt upright with a gasp. Sam spun his head to see sweat glistening on his brother's face. There was very little sense in his eyes and he was gulping air. Sam resisted the urge to go to him. He stilled his body and remained in his chair. He kept his eyes on his brother, though, as Dean became aware of his surrounding and schooled his face into an impassive mask. Sam looked back at his computer before Dean saw him staring.

"What time is it?" Dean croaked.

"Um… three o'clock. Dean, something has been bothering me about the druids." He announced quickly.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and swiped a hand over his face. He regarded his brother and sat wondering at him. He smiled and chuckled. "What's bothering you about the druids, Sam?"

Sam sat back in his chair. "Apparently, there are three circles in the hierarchy of Druids. They have Druids, who are the mediators, diplomats, leaders, whatever…" Sam said.

"Like the douche bags from Hogwarts last night?" Dean asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"Apparently. Then, there's a lower circle of teachers, bards, historians…"

"Andy…" Dean surmised.

"Right. Kinna belongs to a smaller circle of Seers and Healers. They apparently can cast druidic magic, but it looks like it's mostly concerned animals and plants," Sam shifted uncomfortably. "It refers to mythological people like Merlin and Morgaine La Fey." Sam supplied. "Druids are all about maintaining balance. So, that explains why they keep saying they need to remain neutral… but, I don't know between what two forces." Sam was getting worked up.

Dean stilled as Sam saw the gears turn for his brother. Sam gave him a couple of moments to process the information before Dean huffed and rose from the bed to walk to the table. "That explains why there were so many nursing students and musicians in the house… What I don't really get is the whole thing about why Kinna was messing around with this Book of Shadows stuff if she can work her own kind of tree-hugger mojo." Dean said. "So, what about this whole 'Book of Shadows' thing?"

Sam nodded. "Well, Dad had some things in his journal, but it seems it's always connected with witches." Sam held up his hand to defer his brother's tirade. "The spells in the Book of Shadows aren't all bad, Dean. Apparently, some witches use the spells for healing, for clarifying information, scrying, that kind of thing. There are some necromantic spells there, but nothing we don't know about. Bella used to use a lot of them when she contacted the spirit world."

Bella Talbot was a dealer in the arcane that the Winchesters had run across a couple of years ago. She was a constant thorn in their sides until she her deal with a crossroads demon came due. Sam sighed. Such a shame…she was kind of hot.

"The fact that Bella used them doesn't exactly endorse it." Dean complained.

"No, but she wasn't exactly a witch." Sam clarified defensively. "And she definitely wasn't a necromancer."

Dean contained the desire to laugh and throw his arm around his kid brother. "Did you find anything about how to track the necromancers before they kill some girls?"

Sam looked at the computer screen. "Necromancers are about the spirit world. They work magic that controls the dead, dying, spirits. You know, I even found reference to the exorcism as a kind of necromantic spell. Banishing spirits as well as invoking them. We do quite a bit of necromantic spells in the work we do. But, remember that Neil kid who raised his girlfriend as a zombie? He wasn't a necromancer, but the spells he used are necromantic. Anyway, you shot those zombies in the face and they dropped. That shouldn't have worked. These guys are more like witches, actually. As far as I can tell, they have to call up some kind of evil spirit or demons to make it work."

"I hate witches…" Dean griped.

Dean had watched his brother as he described the druids with an animated expression and gesturing wildly. He could feel the corners of his mouth lifting. Any expression from his brother was better than the mandroid he had been dealing with over the past months. He missed Sam, this Sam, his Sam.

Dean rose and went to the bathroom. When he got out, he was cleaned up and dressed. Sam had a can of cold soda waiting for him. He went to the table where Sam was searching databases online and Dean looked over his brother's shoulder as he opened the can with a pop.

"You heard from Bobby?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. Bobby and Sam had spoken briefly about what happened before Dean had gotten him back his soul. Sam was sure it would take a little bit of time for Bobby to get over the fact that while Sam was walking around without a soul, he had attempted a ritual that entailed killing his "father". Sam sighed. He began packing up his computer and research notes. Dean looked at him quizzically.

"I think I have some idea of how to track the Necromancers, but I think we need to go see Ms. Locke."

SPN SPN SPN

It was full dark when the Winchesters drove the Impala into the driveway of the dimly lit house in Framington; the low rumble under the Impala's hood alerted Ms. Locke they were there. She was waiting on the porch as the Winchesters left the ebony car in the darkness and approached the yellow porch light. The tall woman appeared haggard and drawn. Through the living room window the men were able to see a beehive of activity. Dean gestured to the window.

"What's going on?" He asked the tall woman.

Ms. Locke didn't turn or move. She looked at the boys through tired bloodshot eyes. Her face was pallid in the dim light; making her look jaundiced, careworn, old… tear tracks lined the deep grooves from her eyes down her cheeks.

Sam walked up to Ms. Locke and offered her his arm. She smiled at his gallantry, took his arm and was led to the patio furniture where she sank elegantly into the chair. She held herself still while the boys sat opposite her. Sam cleared his throat.

She turned to assess the younger Winchester brother. She waited for the question she expected him to ask since Kinna was abducted, since that night in her room when she heard the Circle state they would remain, as always, neutral in the matters between forces of the spiritual worlds. She also knew what the Circle intended. They all knew, even Andy.

"There is a question I need to ask," Sam began quietly.

Locke nodded, "You want to know why, if every Seer is rare and precious to us, why we don't storm the castle gates and take her back?"

Sam gazed deeply into her worried eyes and nodded. She sighed in resignation. She didn't know why Kinna trusted these two men. She knew that the Seer had ways of knowing that she could not possibly fathom. She made up her mind. In for an ounce…

"Kinna is a Vessel of all druidic knowledge and wisdom. The Circle knew she would be when she was very young. Sometimes, she knew things she was too young to guess and was able to do things she had never had training to do. We all sort of guessed at it for a very long time, but… well, she is."

Dean perked at the word "Vessel". "Do you mean, she has something wearing her skin and she isn't really that little girl anymore?" He said harshly.

Locke shook her head. "It isn't like a demon possession. It's Kinna… but she has access to ages upon ages of knowledge. Her training isn't like ours. She has to learn how to access the information. We have to memorize and recite from rote. She has that information living and growing inside her. She adds to it that way. If it were like a demon possession, it wouldn't be able to grow and new information would never be added." She sighed and her body slackened wearily.

"So losing Kinna is more than losing a sweet little 19 year old girl… it is losing all the collected knowledge and wisdom of your people?" Sam extrapolated.

Locke nodded and pursed her lips. She wasn't sure how much she should reveal. She decided though, that these men were trusted by the Seer and one of them was believed to be the weapon Kinna had foreseen as a Spirit Warrior. "The Circle will be performing a ritual tonight to pull the Spirit of knowledge and wisdom from her… The manuscript she translated gave very specific information how to do this." Tears ran renewed down the matron's face. "We think the necromancers may have this information already, somehow. The behavior and actions they have undertaken reveal to us, now that we have the information that they were working toward pulling it from her. The Circle is taking action now to prevent that knowledge from the wrong hands."

Dean looked at her through shrewd eyes. "What is that going to do to Kinna?" He asked.

Locke looked away in dismay. She didn't even try to stifle to harsh sob that wracked her body. That was answer enough for the Winchesters. "When is this thing going down?" Dean asked.

Locke shook her head. "Probably at midnight, our time."

"Well, that only leaves us less than seven hours to find them, stop them and get her the hell back here." Dean scrubbed his face. "Do you know how we could find them?"

Locke thought a moment. "They would use Gorse and running water to block her from using her abilities. She said that the girls were kept in a circle room with no windows and made from concrete and iron. The girls are shackled to the floor of the room with iron manacles. There is nothing else that she was able to impart." Locke thought for a moment. "If you are going after them, be very careful. She hinted that there were many undead things guarding the girls. Things that were so repulsive to us, she was almost catatonic."

As the boys returned to the Impala, Dean grumbled about needles in a bed of needles, but Sam had the wide and sparkling eyes of a man on a mission. "We need to get into the city planner's office." He told his brother.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural isn't mine. Really.

**Chapter 11**

They had spent two hours looking through infrastructure blueprints and aquifer plans having broken in to the city planner's office and were now less than five hours from the ritual that would pull the Spirit of Knowledge and Wisdom from a 19 year old girl, possibly killing her. Dean was edgy and irascible. He drove through the the misty night on a dark and muddy road. This, of course, added to his overall mood. He cringed at each bump and slide of the Impala's tires. Sam looked at a map using a penlight and navigated with confidence. Dean didn't feel the confidence his brother had and instead ground his teeth and clenched his jaw until he had a headache.

"Are we at least getting close?" He snapped at Sam for the tenth time since they turned onto the fire road into the wilderness.

Sam looked up and gauged the relative location out the window and consulted his phone's gps locator. "There should be a kind of ramp up here on your right, Dean." He told his brother. "When we get to the top, we park and go in the rest of the way on foot."

"Go in to where?" Dean asked.

"There is a kind of cistern in the middle of the aquifer. It's round, made of concrete and has been recently updated with private monies. The only thing in the state that has been given a infrastructure retrofit and it isn't used for anything. According to the records, it has been empty for years and now, some corporation pays for a retrofit... here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by thorn bushes."

Dean looked over briefly at Sam. "Thorn bushes. I don't suppose the thorn bushes are Gorse?"

Sam nodded as he put the maps away and watched as the car approached the top of the drive. "Be careful as we get to the top, Dean. There's a pretty steep..."

The Impala slipped on the wet pavement as Dean braked suddenly at the top, narrowly missing the drop off into the spillway. Dean cast an annoyed glance at his brother through narrowly slitted eyes as he turned off the Impala's engine and reached into the back seat to pull out his duffel.

The two men carefully walked through the gorse laden landscape to find a game trail running along the spillway. They followed the narrow track with flashlights flushing animals into the undergrowth for nearly a mile before they came to a concrete bridge over the spillway with a giant round concrete covered cistern in the middle.

Dean stepped out onto the concrete span and gripped the cable handrail to look down at the raging water. The water roared blackly, even in the light of the hand torch, under the bridge as the rain and snow melt had filled it nearly up to the top of the cistern. The mist and spray from below chilled both men even through the multiple layers and sturdy jackets they wore. They carefully tread the narrow bridge and when they reached midway over the aquifer, they reached a tall rounded wall. The dull grey steel door appeared unguarded.

Dean pulled a shotgun from his duffel bag and readied it. "When is it that easy?" he muttered under his breath. He shot a look at Sam who nodded his readiness. Dean reached slowly to the handle and turned it quietly. He pushed the door open a sliver and pushed the barrel of his gun to the opening illuminating his path carefully as he peeked in through the crack. He was able to hear a number of noises that he found distressing over the monotonous reverberation of the crashing water outside. He pushed the door wider and stepped onto a mesh landing at the top of steel stairs. Sam stepped in behind him covering Dean's flank with his own shotgun.

Both men looked over the railing to the wide room below. There was a large circle painted on the concrete floor. There were five figures in deeply cowled robes muttering in a guttural language. Around the men, the brothers could see dark shadows glide like smoke circling the perimeter, but they couldn't see what creatures cast the shadows. Inside the circle were five young women filthy from their captivity manacled to the floor. In the center, Kinna was chained with a collar around her neck to manacles on her wrists and ankles. She was muttering and rocking on her knees. Dean looked up at his brother.

Sam looked worried. Which, in and of itself, wasn't really all that out of character for him. But, the kind of worried expression on his brother's face made Dean pause and cock his head quizzically in askance.

"If the running water and gorse interrupts the casting, how are they able to use their magic down here?" He whispered "Dean, this doesn't make sense."

Dean shrugged his shoulder and readied his gun. He took a step to the stairs and moved to begin his decent. Just as he placed his booted foot on the step, he heard a strangled gasp and the clatter of Sam's flashlight as it hit the side rail and fell to the floor below come from behind him. When he turned to look, Sam was being lifted from his feet. Sam dropped his gun and reached up to grasp invisible fingers around his throat. There was a hollow breathing sound and Dean ran to his brother's side. He reached into his duffel to withdraw salt from a canister. He sprayed the salt around his brother and they saw the flickering retreat of whatever spirit was holding Sam. There was a chuckle from one of the robed figures below.

"Come in, Gentlemen." Said the necromancer they had seen in the Library at Yale. "We have been expecting you."

Sam bent to retrieve his shotgun, registering briefly how the muttered chanting continued as the men descended from the landing. "We were just admiring your decor, Gygax." Dean quipped. "It must remind you guys of your mom's basement. Aren't you supposed to play this game with dice or something?"

"Very clever." The necromancer said without a shred of humor. "I told you before, though, that our ends are not at odds. You will need to make a choice. That is what this has always been about, you know... making choices."

Dean reached the bottom of the stairs and stood with his back against his brother who was slightly turned to his right. "Yeah, I already voted. I like Coke better than Pepsi. Not because it tastes better, I just don't like the guy on those commercials. He looks like a real douche." Dean smirked.

Sam was surveying the room with a critical eye. He tried to avoid looking at the captive girls for as long as he could. He saw shadows continue to swirl and slink at the far end of the giant room. They seem to be kept at bay by some invisible force. He felt he understood what Locke had been saying about the wrongness of the creatures. He was even starting to feel nauseous in the company of the necromancer's pets.

A whimper and a scream escaped the woman in the middle of the room. Sam was unable to ignore the girls any more. His eyes zoomed to focus on Kinna. Her white complexion and wide open but sightless gaze concerned him as much as the clumps of red sticky hair on the crown of her head. She continued to rock as her slack-jawed mouth formed a grimace of pain. Sam looked quickly to see if his brother had also registered the danger.

Sam saw the look on his brother's face. He was determined to do something stupid. He was just trying to figure out how to do it with the least amount of collateral damage. What he decided to do, Sam could see in the shift of his posture, the gripping the stock of his shotgun, and the clenching of his jaw. Sam primed his own response; he shifted his stance to move when his brother did. Sam checked his brother's gaze to signal which target he would choose first and adjusted his own strategy accordingly.

Dean smirked at the necromancer in front of him. "Well, I don't suppose you'd be willing to give the girls to us would you?" He asked diplomatically.

"Decidedly not." the sorcerer said with a smile that reminded Dean of a corpse several days into decomp.

Dean shrugged and pulled the gun up to fire at the nearest figure as the robed figure muttered what they assumed was an incantation. As Dean's arm rose, so did Sam's and he shot the figure directly in front of Dean's target. Both brothers moved to take shelter behind iron tables and concrete pillars away from the spellcasters. Dean looked around the pillar behind which he had taken cover. He could see the shifting shadows at he other end of the room begin to move in agitation... or was it anticipation. The pale necromancer who had addressed them was no where to be seen.

"Sam" Dean warned.

"I see them." Sam replied.

Dean reached into his pocket and withdrew the canister of salt he used earlier. He gripped it tightly in one hand and adjusted the grip on his gun in the other. He glanced at his brother behind an iron table. He had his gun ready. None of the humans made any move to interfere with the Winchesters. In fact, they could still hear the murmured chanting continue further in the room.

They also heard the rising distress of Kinna. They needed to do something, and quick.

Dean made a hand motion to Sam who acknowledged with a nod. With military precision, the two men began to move. Dean began to walk around from the pillar to his left. Sam covered him with his shotgun until Dean made it to another pillar. Dean covered Sam as he moved. The shadowy figures at the other end were moving as well. The boys were unable to see where the head necromancer disappeared to but they knew that he was here somewhere.

All of a sudden the room was plunged into darkness. All the modern lighting, candles, everything went black. Both boys stopped moving and crouched where they were. Sam made a quick whispered call to his brother. He could hear scraping of boot against concrete to his left. He waited. There was chains clinking in the center of the room. The rhythmic clinking of chain against chain as the Seer rocked back and forth, the scraping of metal on concrete as the chain dragged on the floor.

Sam tried to reach out with his other senses to determine if his brother was still in place to his left. He could hear breathing sounds all around him. There were echoes of chanting that seemed to reverberate all over the room. His legs began to shake slightly from holding the same tense position for so long while feeling the anxiety and stress from the lack of his vision. Behind him, he felt a cold finger caress the back of his neck. His whole body went rigid and he yanked the salt canister from the leg pocket of his pants. He sprayed salt indiscriminately behind him. He heard a hollow female voice croon to him eerily from nearby. He stood alert and prepared to move.

"Dean?" he called tersely.

"Sam." Dean responded very close by. Sam exhaled thankfully. He turned toward the direction he heard his brother's voice. He shifted slowly in the crouch and shuffled one foot and then the other. He whispered Dean's name again with no response. He strained to hear his brother. He was unable to make out more than the clinking chains and shooshing of cloth against the cement. There was a whisper of of icy cold to his left. He gripped the salt container. He searched with his eyes, ears and that proximity sense that tells you that there's someone approaching. He couldn't figure out where his brother was and it was too dark to even see his hand if he waved it right in front of his eyes. Sam stopped moving.

Somewhere, on the other side of the room, Dean's voice rose in a strident call. "Marco!"

Sam, ignoring the fact that he was unable to see stood up and ran in the direction he heard his brother's voice. He heard a cackle of laughter from in front of him and stopped, crouching low and holding his gun barrel slightly down. He didn't want any mistakes in the dark.  
"Boys, boys, boys... We don't have to be enemies, you know. I could bring light and you could be on your merry way. These women are no better than witches... Don't your kind hunt their kind?"

Dean's voice hovered in the air nebulously. Sam was unable to triangulate his brother's voice. "Yeah, well, these are little girls. We'd rather hunt someone with a little more teeth..." Dean seemed to be moving. There was silence except for the footfalls of the necromancer in front of him somewhere.

Then, Sam heard his brother's quiet voice in front of him, harsh and vicious "Like... you." There was a sound of scuffle, two bodies struggling and thumping of fist against body or face. There was a wet sickening sound and a low groan.

"Dean!" Sam screamed. He rose from his crouch and moved toward the sound of grunting and shuffling. A hand gripped Sam's shoulder in the dark and pulled him to the ground. Sam rounded on his attacker just to hear a hiss of pain and feel the slick sticky feel and metallic scent that could only be blood on a hand outstretched to him.

"Sam, get down." Dean's voice growled at him.

"Dean!" Sam whispered. "Are you okay?" Sam's voice grew strained and hitched an octave.

"I'm fine, Sam. I got him, too. But, I need you to get the girls."

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.

Sam could almost imagine Dean's grin widening and his green eyes twinkling with mischief. "I am gonna kill this mother fucker."

Sam felt his brother move away, even as he reached out to try and stop him. Sam closed his eyes and sent out a silent prayer that he stay safe, then moved along the floor to the nearest girl he could hear rattling chains. He heard a soft gasp as he nearly crawled into the young woman.

"It's okay." He whispered. "We're here to help."

He felt the girl grasp his forearm and her relief evident in her sobbing voice. Sam put his shotgun in the bag he carried and pulled his lock picks from his pocket. He began trying to pick the manacle's lock. He felt a tingling in his hand and arm as he worked. It was uncomfortable and irritating, but did not hinder his progress. As the slender metal began to move toward the right, a painful shock migrated up from the lock to his hand and jarred his nerves so potently; Sam almost threw the picks as his reflexes pulled his hand away. Sam muttered a curse and shook his hand to try and return feeling to it. He could barely feel his fingers. He worried that they wouldn't have enough dexterity to pick the lock.

"Please, help us... I want to go home..." The girl sniffed. Sam could feel the girl shaking violently as she gripped his arm.

"I'm trying!" Sam assured her. "What's your name?" He asked as he put the metal to lock again.

"I'm Linda." she said. "The black things can't come in the circle... but... I'd like to go now... please!" She cried at him.

"Black things?" He asked as he worked on getting the lock picked.

"They're like shadows." She informed him. "But they... they're so cold. I thought they were ghosts, but I don't really think they are anymore." Sam stopped working long enough to pull a bit of cloth from his shirt into his teeth and tear it off. He reached up with his offhand and carefully wrapped his fingers to prevent another shock. He pulled the lock picks right again and heard and felt the satisfying click of the manacles release. He offered Linda his hand and cautioned her to stay right with him. She began pulling him into the center of the circle.

"We have to get the Seer." She wailed.

"We will." Sam assured her. Just then, the report of Dean's Desert Eagle ricocheted in the cylindrical room to ring in their ears. The muttering chant was momentarily interrupted. A shotgun blast and the eerie wail of a spirit-being resounded. Sam couldn't see him, but he knew his brother was taking out their enemies. He had to hope that Dean was being careful. Sam went back to work getting the women unchained.

Sam and Linda came to the next warm body shackled to the floor. Sam repeated the technique that released Linda. The woman fell into Linda's arms and the two women clung to each other as they moved slowly around the circle feeling their way in the dark, navigating solely by feel, sound and relative memory. The next woman they discovered lay in a pool of foul-smelling filth. She didn't move and when Sam reached down to find her wrist, it was cold. He felt for a pulse and finding none, pulled the girls toward the next girl.

Another shotgun report and muzzle blast indicated that Dean was still eliminating the spirits around the perimeter as Sam worked to free the remaining women. Sam and the two women reached the fourth abductee chained in the room. She was shaking and unresponsive as Sam worked to release her. He was bent to his work when a scream escaped one of his companions. A ragged breath and the metallic stench of blood wafted to inundate Sam's senses. Sam lifted his arm to ward off the onrushing body that overbore him, taking him to the ground. The creature's putrid breath dripped drool and Sam didn't know what else on his face as it tried to get its maw closer to Sam's face. Sam heaved to throw the body away from him. It sailed easily back but came rushing back at him. He realized as he rose to fend off the attacker that the form of the creature was small. It was petite and light.

Another shotgun blast and muzzle flash illuminated a silhouette of the creature in front of him. He could see where his brother worked nearby in that instantaneous flash. Sam reached into a pocket and pulled out his lighter having lost his flashlight earlier at the entrance. He had avoided using the lighter as long as possible to avoid the enemies seeing where he was and what he was doing. He felt this attack warranted the judicious use of light at this point.

He flicked a flame and held it slightly to his right. The soft yellow glow illuminated a grotesque form of the woman Sam recognized from the news report. It was a risen form of Kelly Savoy. She had grey milky eyes and her skin was bluish-purple. Her hungry face set in a rictus of horror, her clawed fingers reached out to Sam to grasp at him. He backed up away from her to give him time to arm himself. He had to work to get the shotgun free of the bag it was in. He raised the gun but just as the creature began closing with him, he felt a body stooped behind him and realized he had backed into Kinna. The Seer had stopped rocking on her knees and Sam heard her growl. It distressed Sam to think she might be spellbound just as Miss Savoy was apparently transformed. He had only a moment to ponder this new development because the Savoy revenant rushed him.

The revenant was nearly to him. He raised the gun and aimed at the former woman's face. He pulled the trigger as she leapt at him from a couple arms lengths away. She leapt so swiftly, his aim was slightly off and the shot pounded into her shoulder instead of her head and she twisted midair to land near the kneeling form of the Seer. Kinna seemed to be aware of the former druid falling near her.

The feral growl that escaped Kinna's lips was the only warning he got. Sam watched her in the flickering light of the lighter. The creature was still moving. He was unable reload the shotgun one handed and the lighter was beginning to heat up. He would have to release the light and plunge them into darkness again. Kinna's eyes were completely focused on the creature. Her lip was peeled in a sneer of rage. Suddenly, Kinna moved. She reached and grabbed the revenant's head. The former Miss Savoy grimaced at the Seer and lunged to try to bite her. Kinna twisted the creature's head and a piercing scream escaped its mouth to end in a gurgle. Kinna continued twisting even after the revenant was no longer moving.

Sam leaned down to touch Kinna's shoulder. The Seer flinched and let go of the creature. The other women came forward to embrace Kinna. She resumed rocking as though nothing untoward happened. The lighter in Sam's hand was so hot he was unwilling to continue holding it on. He stooped down to the women and located the lock on Kinna's manacles. He looked into Linda's eyes. She nodded grimly and Sam let the lighter extinguish.

**A/N**: Dean makes an off-had comment about the cola wars. I thought it would be funny to kind of reference Richard Spreight, Jr. Just to be clear, LOVE Pepsi commercials, DISLIKE with extreme prejudice the actual thing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural isn't mine. Really. I keep hoping that the others will invite me to the sandbox raids… sadly, I am left to wistfully watch from the sidelines… sigh.

Also, language and violence is used more in this chapter. Just so you aren't thinking, "OMG, Paula! Just drop that anywhere!"

A/N: Last chapter was Sam's POV in the dark. This is the exact same time frame from Dean's POV.

**Chapter 12**

The lights went out. Dean heard his brother's voice whisper his name as he knelt down in a defensive crouch. He moved slightly and swung around in a circle. He couldn't see any lights at all. He reached down into his pocket to pull forth a flashlight fingering the switch into the on position. Nothing. He shook it and turned to flip the switch again. Still, Nothing. No flickering. No dimming yellow. Just, nothing. Dean stifled a curse. _Great_... He responded to his brother's voice by answering in a whispered "Sam". He felt around to his left. He knew the necromancer was around here somewhere. He had to remain focused.

He began to move slowly and kept his gun ready to deal with any encounter. He felt the brush of cool air pass him on either side. He froze and tried to locate the source. He moved again as he heard the muttered chanting, using those voices as a compass. He walked as quietly as he could, as low as he could. He heard his brother's hoarse whispers become more and more frantic. Dean was rapidly approaching the voices and didn't want to alert his prey to his location, so he remained silent. He knew Sam would stay put. Dean knew where his brother was as he continued to call in gruff whispers.

He located the three chanters as he reconnoitered the perimeter but was still looking for their leader. He tried to return to his brother's position by drawing a diameter path back. He sensed the it before he heard the body movement. He back pedaled quietly up to a pillar. On the other side of the pillar, he felt a railing made of iron rod. He turned his head at a flicker of movement that caught his eye. On the other side of the rail, he saw small orbs... maybe an inch or so. They were floating in pairs. Then it occurred to him. They were glowing eyes. _Ah, Hell_.

"Marco!" Dean yelled to his brother. Then, Dean turned and pounded to the wall away from the spirit globes.

He heard a cackle of laughter from his right and he stopped, crouching low and holding his gun barrel slightly down. He didn't want any mistakes in the dark.

"Boys, boys, boys... We don't have to be enemies, you know. I could bring light and you could be on your merry way. These women are no better than witches... Don't your kind hunt their kind?"

Dean's needed to buy time and let his brother know what to do. Also, he really wanted to gank this dick.

"Yeah, well, these are little girls. We'd rather hunt someone with a little more teeth..."

Dean began moving in the direction of the speaker. He could hear the shallow breathing of the necromancer in front of him. He slowed to close with him, wanting to be sure it was him. Dean hefted his gun reluctantly putting it down and pulling a large dagger from a sheath behind him. He heard the rustling of fabric and recognized the smell of decay. _You're mine!_

Dean closed in to engage the necromancer. He breathed into the death wizard's ear, his voice harsh and vicious "Like... you."

The Necromancer bucked. His slight build belied the strength Dean underestimated. The wizard pulled at Dean's arm, using his momentum, weight and position against him. Dean went down onto one knee. He twisted around and regained his footing. An off-hand punch to the midsection caused the wizard to double over, but he was still mobile. Dean had a hard time keeping track of the wizard's location in the dark. He got close enough to feel the rush of fabric close to hand and strike out with a fist to impact body. Then, his adversary would slink out of the way.

Dean stilled suddenly at the sound of metal sliding from leather. He held up his dagger defensively and waited until he was able to hear his prey. There it is, he thought and moved to his left. As he moved, he must have somehow signaled his own location because he felt hot pain in his side. He brought down his own blade and plunged it to the hilt in the other man. They pulled apart and Dean fell, pulling with him the knife. He felt and heard the other slink off. He grabbed his side as he rose to stand and felt warm liquid pouring from him onto his hand. A groan escaped his lips before he could hide it. He brushed his blade against his pant leg to clean the majority of the blood from it before returning it to its sheath.

"Dean!" Sam screamed anxiously. Dean thought how he could have injured his brother in the scuffle, he was so close. He heard and sensed his brother rise and move. Dean instinctively reached out and grabbed his brother's shoulder and pulled him to the ground. Apparently, Sam didn't recognize Dean's presence because he rounded to fend off what he thought was an attack. The wild haymaker his brother threw made Dean pull his side awkwardly. Dodging the punch caused pain to sear his side. He hissed. _Geez, Sam!_

Sam, having finally recognized him, clutched at Dean, gripping his arm and then hand. Sam felt the sticky wetness from his brother's hand and pulled away.

"Sam, get down." Dean growled at him.

"Dean!" Sam whispered. "Are you okay?" Sam's voice grew strained and hitched an octave.

"I'm fine, Sam. I got him, too. But, I need you to get the girls."

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.

Dean grinned wide and his green eyes narrowed with malevolence. "I'm gonna kill this mother fucker."

Dean moved off away from his brother in the direction of the chanting minions. He reached the iron fence line once again. He looked to the other side of the line. His blood slicked hand grasped the iron. He thought he saw the hungry globes hover closer but stopped short of the line. He knelt down and ran his hand near the floor. As he thought, there was a gritty substance under the iron rods. He tentatively put the grit on his hand near his mouth and touched the substance with is tongue. _Salt_.

He could feel the prickles on his neck indicating a presence approaching from behind. He dodged the oncoming form of one of the minions. The man rushed past Dean and he heard the crash into the iron rods. The man turned. Dean could hear the raspy breath in front of him. The shift of the soles of the man's shoes broadcast his intention to move. Dean tensed as he saw glowing eyes moving towards them. Then, he heard the man's footfalls as he ran toward Dean. Whirling to his right, Dean allowed the man to pass him targeting his position with his senses. He pulled his Desert Eagle and fired. He heard the man fall to the ground with a heavy thump. He turned back and saw the glowing lamps of ghostly eyes coming closer and closer. He realized that when the necromancer had run into the iron fence, he must have broken the salt line. _Crap_. He pulled up his shotgun, fired salt rounds into the ghostly figure and the glowing orbs disappeared with an eerie wail.

Dean moved around the room trying to once again get his bearings. He moved forward and as he did he reloaded the shotgun, removing the spent shell. He felt the goose bumps form on his arm and the hair on his neck rise. Listening, Dean could hear the murmured cries of a woman and the hushed reassurance of his brother's voice. He felt the cold spirit presence getting closer. He could barely detect the flickering eyes of the spirit to his left, and then they vanished. He was still and held his breath to see if he could make out any sound that would announce the spirit's intention or the whereabouts of his more corporeal adversaries. He crouched down low and swung right on bended legs. He completed a circle and found himself facing the glowing eyes once more. He shot another round of salt which dissipated the spirit again for the moment.

_We need to get out of here_.

Just then, he heard a scream escape from one of the girls in the circle. He almost called out to his brother when he heard a soft chuckle from very nearby. He recognized the sound as the Necromancer in charge of this funhouse of horrors. He crept closer but had that spirit sensation again. _I am so done with this horse shit_. Dean shot salt again without aiming. _I am going to finish this asshole off once and for all_.

He heard the rustle of the wizard's robe and he reached out and grabbed the fabric. It hurt his side, but he ignored the pain. He refused to let go no matter how the guy struggled. They circled each other, each trying to gain the upper hand over the other. They grabbed at each other until finally, Dean slipped on something on the floor his shotgun rattled next to him as he used his hand to steady himself. If it hadn't been for the numerous drills his father had put he and Sam through to stay alive, he might have been in trouble. He recovered his footing before the necromancer could take advantage of Dean's momentary slip. Dean continued to hold the robe fabric, but drew his knife from his belt sheath and yanked while his adversary was caught somewhat flat-footed. _Didn't expect me to do that, I bet!_

As the guy was pulled into Dean, he grasped at whatever he could to steady himself once more. He grabbed at the arm holding the knife. As the necromancer fell, he pulled the weapon with him as he went down. Dean felt the hilt fall from his still sticky, bloodied hand to fall to the floor. He let go of the guy's robe and swung out of the way in case his opponent recovered the blade. He tried to remember where the shotgun was relative to his location and moved. He felt his hand come to the stock and then he pulled up the barrel, aiming according to where he remembered the man to be. He knew the salt wouldn't kill him, but it might slow him down.

He suddenly saw a brief glow in the room, not enough to illuminate everything, but enough light he was able to make out shadows. He was able to see some movement and when he looked he saw the pale face of his opponent. He was very near Dean and was approaching with a slow deliberate pace. They stood facing each other for the briefest of moments before they flew together in struggle once more. Dean tried to claw at the guy's face and gouge his eyes. The necromancer kept using all his strength to reach Dean's chest. Every time Dean was able to wave off the attempt, the necromancer went back to the same attack. Dean suspected there was more to the attempts then just chance attack at whatever vulnerable part he could reach, so Dean adjusted his own strategy.

He kicked out his leg to drop the magic-user and began pummeling him in the face. He heard a crack as the jaw he had targeted snapped out of place and the necromancer was left only to moan in pain. _Moleram that, Asshole_!

Dean got up from where he was doing battle and looked to the source of the light. He heard the feral growls of Kinna as she twisted the head of another girl close to her. Sam and the others were nearby watching, Dean could see the horrified expressions on their faces in the yellow, flickering light of Sam's lighter. The body near Kinna stopped moving and the girls rushed to embrace her. Dean began to straighten. He kicked the necromancer in the torso just for good measure. The prone form continued to groan and cry. Dean turned to join his brother and the girls. Then, the light went out again and they were plunged, once more in darkness

_Great_.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Disclaimer:** Supernatural- not mine, not making money or expecting anyone to invite me to play in Kripke's sandbox. I keep hoping for an invitation to go on the raids, but sadly I need to be content to hang out in the play yard twiddling my thumbs 'til the others get booted out.

**A/N:** This is a little departure, friends. I will be waxing philosophical here. Bear with me.

~~~~~~~~SPN SPN SPN~~~~

It was dark inside the warm consciousness of Seer. The chains that bound the corporeal form in which it resided shut Spirit off from information. It swirled and roiled within. It could feel a slight tugging, up and out. It resisted. Seer resisted. All those who came before resisted. They struggled to hold to the tether than bound Spirit to the entity of Seer. Spirit held all things in its grasp. It knew what the spell was the minions of Chaos chanted in their corner. Chaos wanted Spirit to be released from its host only to be bound to stagnation, destruction, darkness- the kind of Darkness from which Maker had intended to protect His Creation. _That_ would be the weapon they used against Creation.

Here, inside Seer, Spirit could exert its true power on the world even as it was limited by its human host. It would never die because of the pact it had made with the First. It was held within the fruit and consumed as part of the trick Chaos played, but the trick backfired. Knowledge needed to be released from the safety of the womb in order to grow. What was Paradise without the flourishing of information and Knowledge? It was without Passion and Creativity. The release from the tree made Knowledge more powerful. Held within the host, it would flourish.

The spell that tugged Spirit brought it so close to the surface of Seer. Spirit knew that the fullness of its being could drive the girl mad. It knew that drawing Spirit forth would burn her out. Spirit found that intolerable. It would not be able to acquire more information if it was bound to agents of Chaos. Darkness was the weapon of Chaos, even as Knowledge was a weapon of Balance. It was close enough to the surface that, if it chose, it could intervene. Spirit knew it did not have the same limitations as its human host in its true form. The only reason it abided by the human limitations was Balance.

Still, Spirit was tempted by the promises that Chaos whispered to it, bringing it closer and closer to release. Seer denied and refuted the claims her enemy asserted. It was beginning to sense the world outside. The bindings to Seer, human and frail, were being broken, were being eroded as time continued to pass. If released, perhaps Spirit would evade Chaos. It would have the power to enter the minds of all the humans in its path. Spirit could plant the knowledge of all the Ages it had acquired since its own Creation in Paradise. Spirit could create Balance in the minds directly instead of working through its intermediaries. What need did these creatures have for free will, after all? What the humans did with Knowledge was up to them. How they interpreted what was shown landed in the lap of their free will. The consequences of Knowledge were really not Spirit's concern, but they had continually disrupted the Balance. It was exhausting trying to undo what mortals disrupt. Free will interferes with logic.

Spirit showed Seer the true names of the pieces in the Game. It felt the pieces moving toward the final conclusion. The Son of Light averted Destiny and the Apocalypse only to be thrust into the new gambit. He would soon see what he was truly destined to be. The General rallied its allies and moved the pieces forward to make ready for battle. Even now, the Knave went forth on the General's orders to protect the Throne. The Son was part of the end game. Chaos, too, moved its pieces onto the board. While it was content to litter the Game with pawns instead of having leaders in its arsenal, it held the Traitor and the Bereft in its ranks, though they knew it not.

Seers were the depositories of Knowledge and information of the Ages. Occasionally, Spirit showed Seer glimpses of what it knew and she would share the information in the limited, frail, mundane way. That is why it used images that Seer could interpret. Since she had training that helped her to know what the images meant based on lessons learned from Seers past, her assessments of the information were pretty accurate. It was surprising, though, that Seer was able to communicate with Spirit in a way none of her predecessors were able to do.

As Spirit contemplated Seer's success rate in communicating with her symbiotic entity, it began to experience a desperate flurry of images from its host. Snatches of music and images of Andy, Seer's love for the ginger-haired musician, the smiling faces of the children they would never have, the fear and horror of the unnatural creatures of the enemies surrounding them flashed to Spirit. Spirit was annoyed. _Stop trying to confuse me, Seer_.

_Knowledge is not the absence of Passion, Spirit_. She flashed images of intimate moments with Andy, walking in the woodland, pain at breaking her arm when she was ten, running away from her mother after her father died in an automobile accident.

_Demons and Monsters are Passion without Logic_, Spirit replied. It flashed images of humans ripped apart in bloody feasts, demons possessing humans to commit horrendous crimes, monsters playing in the viscera of their victims.

_And Logic supersedes Passion?_ She threw images she had gleaned from accessing Spirit's memories and the memories of Seers from the past. She showed long ages of waiting without end for the Creator to notice a tree in the glade, Angels standing as stone statues in a gleaming palace, the lack of love, of empathy, of compassion Spirit knew well before the pact that linked it to a human host.

_Angels are Logic without Passion_, Seer argued. _Knowledge is Balance between Passion and Logic._ Spirit conceded the point.

Humans were the nexus between Logic and Passion, between mind and emotion, head and heart. The reason for their creation was to create the Balance. Lately though, humans have wasted their purpose by handing over their free will to pursue the destruction of their world. They relinquish their choices, their decisions over to others, offering up responsibility for their choices to other creatures or beings instead of owning them. _How is this logical or worthy of passion?_ Spirit knew it had scored the point. It was able to sense the slight depression of truth Seer acknowledged in the argument Spirit posited.

Seer seemed to sigh in defeat. She appeared to change tactic. "There is time later to discuss this. The Necromancers are our enemies. They seek to contain us and pull you from me to imprison you in Darkness." Kinna argued silently. She flashed a vision of a zombie lying next to her, reaching up with its gaping maw to consume Sam. Spirit lent Kinna the power to resist her bindings to destroy the unnatural creature. Rational thought replaced catatonia and Kinna reached to twist the head from the creature, snapping the spinal column and crushing the esophagus. Kinna was unable to maintain her presence in the room with her fellow captives or the two men there to help them.

"You have shown me a little of the Destiny in store for the Son. He has purpose and cannot die here. The monsters will reign if they are permitted to win here. She has tried this before. You have shown me as much, Spirit! She was banished to Nothingness! You have shown this truth to others of my kind as you have shown it to me." Kinna pleaded with the Spirit of Knowledge she held still within her.

Spirit considered her words and the corpse of the undead woman near Seer. It heard and felt the lamentations of the human sacrifices to bring about the renewed Apocalypse. It was true that there are other Ways to win the Game. It was not necessary for the Judeo-Christian Apocalypse to begin the series of events that would ensure the True Balance. Spirit flexed its power slightly. It was blocked with renewed vigor by chanting minions.

_You wish to keep me chained in the Darkness?_ Spirit growled. _Let there be Light!_

Kinna rose and the manacles that shackled her slipped like ash to the ground as a glow began deep within her to shine brightly in a brilliant flash that dazzled the eyes of the humans in the room and burned away the unnatural creatures of the spirit realm being contained in the cylindrical room. The heat of Spirit's power blistered Kinna's flesh and Sam nearly vomited at the smell of burning Seer.

Kinna continued to burn brightly in the small room, even as she began to take in the sights with her mortal eyes. She knew she wouldn't have much time. She looked down at Sam who shielded his eyes with his arm. The chanters paused in their casting to flee into the shelter of the cool walls.

"Sam," Said Kinna. "Take the girls and go." She turned to regard Dean, who approached squinting and blinking while shielding his face. Kinna managed to convince Spirit to dampen the light so she might have words with Dean.

She turned to face Dean and closed her eyes. She smiled slightly as she thought of the words she would impart to the Hunter. He wasn't going to understand. Still, she thought, enigmatic language makes the words spoken regarded with much more import and thus less likely to be discarded.

"Will you accept your Fate?" she began.

"Excuse me?" Dean bristled.

"You will play a pivotal role. Hunter, Knight-Protector, Son of Light—which will you be, I wonder. You can hide behind the names of the Bards. You have already travelled the thorny, rocky way, the darkened path… Would you take the road less travelled so you might hide in the shadows of your world? What happens when the Sun follows the hare down the rabbit's hole? Will it rise again or will it be banished to Darkness forever? You must rise, Son of Light, for you will be in the final judgment between Creation and Oblivion. You may have to seek the aid of those you have sought to destroy. You may have o turn your back on one dearly loved and trusted… But, now you must take your brother and these few and depart."

Kinna could feel the heat boiling inside her. She could feel the spells of Necromancer and Druid warring over the Spirit inside her. She was barely holding onto the thread of the creature crouching inside her. She would hold on to her Spirit and Soul with both hands. She knew she could keep the unnatural things from rising again to follow the brothers and the young druids if she just held on to Spirit a little longer.

Her eyes no longer appeared human. The white light within her began to shine through the holes her eyes occupied. She was burning up with the Spirit of Knowledge. This was the edge of it. Knowledge was a fine blade and slipping to one side, man finds use. Humans would use Knowledge for so many things to better their lives. But, in the end, Knowledge was the reason they were cast from Paradise into the Wilderness. The Balance between Darkness and Renaissance was a thin edge, and Kinna had walked it all of her life. Spirit had chosen her younger than any other Seer in their history. Now, she would be burned alive with it.

She watched the Hunters protectively huddle over the girls. They ushered the girls to the stairs and up and out. Out of the Darkness and into the Light.

_Now, Spirit_, she said, _shall we continue our discussion about the powers of Logic and Passion._

Dean and Sam returned with the girls to the Impala just as the rain came. With the rain came a blinding beam of light and a tremendous shutter of the Earth. The girls seated in the back seat of the Impala began to scream and clutched each other close, crying as they supported each other. They knew even as the two Winchester brothers knew. Kinna was dead.

**A/N:** Kinna alluded to Alice in Wonderland and Robert Frost's Road Less Travelled. Son of Light was a reference in the book War of the Sons, and it is not intended to infringe on any rights.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't get out much. They like to keep me all locked up when I am not at work because of the crazy things that come out of my mouth. Like, "I wish I had a Winchester for my birthday." And "Save a horse drive a Chevy… Impala." Sadly, because of infringement issues I can't really say stuff like that without also disclaiming a desire to make monetary recompense from my sad little drabble and I don't intend infringement yada yada yada. Also, the characters who are from Supernatural the show et al are housed in a COMPLETELY different sandbox than mine. I think mine doesn't get covered at night. Kripke has, like, armed guards on his. So, yeah, I don't own anything.

**Chapter 14**

It was still very dark. Dean continued to walk gingerly toward his brother's last known position, walking a b-line straight through the circle. A sound behind him attracted his attention. It was a slow scuffling sound of fabric and scraping of leather on concrete. Great… Just friggin' great!

He turned and prepared for the next thing that was turning up to make his day so happy shiny. The groaning shuffle that he heard coming slowly, slowly toward him seemed interminable, firing his imagination, creating a tension made worse by the complete void of light. He could feel an irascible growl build deep inside him, as that part of him that was all Hunter seemed to wake and take control. He felt the other distractions, his brother's hushed whispers to the crying and panicking women in the circle, the monotonous chanting of the necromancers, the cold of the cement walls and the freely bleeding knife wound in his side seemed to fade. He could imagine the size of the creature moving toward him. He could almost see it shuffling and reaching out to him. He leaned forward on the balls of his feet. He reached into the sheath behind him to withdraw his weapon, holding it nimbly in his hand.

The zombie reached out for Dean, he seemed to sense it. A quick slash of his sharp blade sliced the creature, splaying thick plasma with a sickening sound across the concrete floor. Dean brought the blade back to a ready position. The slice didn't faze the creature as it continued to advance. Dean sliced and stabbed several more times, dodging the impending creature's attack. Soon, the bloodlust began to take hold. Dean was playing, toying with the creature. He closed with his enemy, stabbing the creature repeatedly in the face and neck with the full force of his strength. He would withdraw a step and then close once more. He danced sideways, circling around to flank the creature whose movements were so mindless and mechanical; they couldn't keep up with the Hunter. The creature wasn't moving to defend itself or to make any serious attempt to gain significant ground with the knife-wielding menace. Dean, tiring of the game, pushed the creature forward onto its face and straddled it on the ground. He took his knife and sawed the head from body with jagged motions. The creature's head rolled away from its body that went limp and still.

Dean gasped for breath and only after the struggle did his mind clear enough to take stock of his surroundings once more. He no longer heard his brother or the girls. Had they escaped? He still heard the low chanting, though. Then, there was light and he saw the opponent he had faced and dispatched with such malevolence. It was his own green eyes that stared unblinking back at him from a severed head. It was his own body, clad in his father's leather jacket that lay ripped to shreds on the floor. Dean woke up shivering and panting.

He looked around in the unfamiliar room. There were old concert posters framed upon the pale blue walls. It was clearly a man's room, acoustic guitars on racks against a wall under a Deep Purple poster. Books of music and sheets of music with penciled in scores littered the top of a nearby chest of drawers. Under the window that framed newly blooming boughs of a tree that swayed lightly in the spring breeze on the opposite wall sat a cushioned windowseat and its tall female occupant.

Ms. Locke held her chin in her hand as she gazed out of the glazed window. Her countenance was weary and her eyes looked shot even from the angle Dean was observing. She did not yet know that he had awaken. He tried to shift but felt the tug and tightening of stitches in his side. Only at the soft intake of breath through clenched teeth did she interrupt her scrutiny of the outside world. She turned to lock eyes with the injured Hunter. They did not speak but in her expression, he knew she knew what happened to Kinna and he was not held accountable. He looked toward the door.

"Where's Sam?" he asked with a hoarse voice.

Locke's thin lips lifted slightly. "He said that would be the first question out of your mouth…" She rose from her perch and lifted a plastic cup with a straw tilting out the top. She approached the bed and lifted Dean's head carefully. "He needed rest. He hadn't slept since you two stumbled on our steps three days ago. He hovers, your brother. I told him that I would club him if he didn't stay abed for at least two hours."

Dean was not keen on sipping anything through a straw, let alone water. But, when the cool liquid filled his mouth he acquiesced immediately, drinking the entire cup. He closed his eyes and leaned back to rest again. When he opened his eyes again, his brother had replaced Locke at the window bench. His sandy hair ruffled and askew as he leaned his head against the pane of glass, soft deep breathing indicated to Dean he was sleeping. His arms crossed lightly in front of him and his hands, palms up in his lap. His long, lanky legs were resting nearly reaching the bottom of the bed.

Dean lay back in the deep pillows and watched his brother sleep. He had no immediate plans to wake him. A click to his left alerted him to the entrance of a resident of the house into the room. He turned his head to meet eyes with Andy, the young musician and boyfriend of Kinna. Dean's eyes darted around the room. This was Andy's room, Dean surmised. As he exhaled, he couldn't help feeling regret. He wanted to close his eyes and be anywhere else.

Andy's eyes darted to Sam at the window, then back to Dean's sad and apologetic green eyes. "You're awake." Andy whispered.

Dean pulled a mask of indifference back over his expression. "How long?" Dean asked.

Andy consulted his watch. "You brought the girls back last Friday. It's been a week."

Dean couldn't believe it. How had he slept a week?

"A week!" Dean shouted. Andy startled slightly and Dean heard his brother jump.

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed. Sam rushed to stand at his brother's side. "What happened?" Sam looked up at Andy who shrugged.

"You let me sleep for A WEEK! Jeez, Sam! It was just a friggin flesh wound. I just needed stitches and a jigger of Jack. We've been here a friggin week!"

Sam's lips curled into a smile. "You lost a lot of blood, Dean. It was either stay here a week or go to the hospital." Sam let his voice trail off, but the relief was apparent in his voice and face. Dean tried to rise again. He felt the familiar tug of the stitches in his side.

"Man, where are my clothes?" Dean grimaced as he threw off the sheets and blankets. Andy turned and left as quietly as he had come. Sam threw Dean's jeans at him and made for the door.

"Bellow if you need help getting down the stairs."He said as he left. Dean threw a pillow at the closing door.

Dean didn't need help getting down the stairs but dressing took him time. He only briefly wondered at how he got into the state of undress he found himself when he woke. The hardest part was lifting his shirt over his head. He walked slowly and carefully down the stairway and across the landing to the kitchen where he found Ms. Locke and Sam sitting at a small table drinking a hot beverage from mugs.

Dean wrinkled his nose. Tea. What was it with these people and tea? He looked around the sparse kitchen but didn't see a coffeemaker or a kettle. He opted to sit down next to his brother. Ms. Locke waited with her hands cupped around the mug. She stared deeply into its milky contents. Apparently, she liked her tea with milk, which Dean didn't really get.

"I would like to share some information with you both." She said. "But, first…" She looked at Dean. "Sam tells me you prefer coffee. Would you like some?"

She went to the black appliance on the counter and began preparing the cup of coffee while she organized her thoughts. Kinna was right, of course. She had believed that these men could be trusted and the others in the Circle failed to listen to her warnings. If she had left things alone, Locke knew Kinna would still be dead now, they just would have lost thirteen other girls as well.

As she handed the heady smelling brew to Dean and resumed her seat, her eyes bored into the green globes of the Hunter before her.

"In the beginning of Humanity, there was a tree. Do you know the story?" She asked.

Sam nodded. "In Eden?" He asked. "The tree God told Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit from."

Locke nodded. "That fruit of the tree held a certain kind of Knowledge… the Spirit of Knowledge was released at the temptation. But, that was the Judeo-Christian version…"

"What is your version?" Dean asked, jumping right to the point. Locke smiled. Yes, she thought, Kinna was certainly right about these men.

"Our version differs only slightly. It wasn't a temptation, but a bargain. It wasn't fruit… technically. It was a pact between Knowledge and Humanity. We were given freedom. Knowledge frees us, does it not? Ignorance and uncertainty imprison us and prevent us from moving forward. The Seers have always been the receptacle of Knowledge… but not all of them have had such a strong connection to the Spirit."

"In my experience, bargains with the supernatural don't end with sunshine and rainbows." Dean leaned back in the chair. "What did the Spirit get in the bargain."

"To grow." Locke said simply. "In Eden… or whatever you want to call it… All things were handed to Humanity. There was no struggle, no risk, no progress… no choice. We were treated like children and sheltered, which may seem like a really good deal… at first. But without the struggle, we can't make mistakes. Without mistakes we don't grow and learn. Knowledge can't grow in that environment any more than we can."

Sam looked at his brother thoughtfully. There were times when some supernatural being or another had offered them that very thing. Bliss. Being with the family long gone. Being with loved ones departed. No longer fighting the worlds weird and horrible. Dean had been upset they had stayed with the Druids for a week. They had to because Dean had gotten injured badly enough that it was needful. Sam imagined how not having to make those choices would feel for him. He had long since given up his once upon a dream life of normalcy. Locke described the expulsion of Humans from Paradise as a gift instead of a punishment. Perhaps, Dean had already known this in a more pragmatic, less dogmatic sense. From the look of skepticism on his brother's face, Sam imagined that Dean really didn't reflect on this stuff the same way. He sighed and continued to listen to Locke.

"Thanks for the Bible School lesson, Lady, but what has this really got to do with anything?" Dean asked.

Locke smiled sadly. "Kinna was… unique. She had a very special kind of relationship with the Spirit. We can really only guess at why she felt she needed to invite you into our world. We have some ideas about what she was trying to do with the Manuscript. She clearly knew and prepared for the fact that she wouldn't be bringing it back to us personally. Otherwise, she wouldn't have had the spell to translate prepared and cast there in the Library. I think the Spirit was giving her clues and instructions, but…" Her voice was far away as she thought about how the Spirit influenced Kinna. "She tried to get the Circle to listen. They wouldn't and now, we may have been dragged into a conflict we were meant to stay out of." Locke pursed her lips and the lines of her eyebrows drew together disapprovingly.

"Really, what has this to do with us?" Dean asked again.

Locke looked directly at the older Hunter. "Perhaps, nothing... Perhaps, everything."

"That's not enigmatic at all. Why can't you speak like everyone else?"

Locke smiled. "I speak like this to make sure my words are heeded."

_Must be in the handbook_, Dean thought bitterly.

Locke regarded the young men sitting before her. She rose and went to the refrigerator. She pulled out several plates of food to prepare for them. She had the experience that young men were always hungry and Dean hadn't eaten real food for a week. Morgan had supplied Healing that nourished the Hunter's body in its sleeping state. But, now that he was awake, she knew he would be as ravenous as a baby wolf. She placed the food in front of Dean and Sam. The latter made feeble attempts to eat. The former dug in with gusto.

"What happened to the Spirit? Did the Druids get it out before she went all thermo-nuclear?"

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed.

"What?" Dean asked in bewilderment.

"It's quite all right… That's what I wanted to discuss with you. We don't know." She stated simply.

Dean stopped mid-chew. He grew very still and his green eyes glittered dangerously. "You don't know?" He asked the question but said as a statement.

"What could have happened?" Sam interrupted before his brother could explode.

Locke tilted her head slightly. "Well, the Circle says that the Spirit may have been released at Kinna's death. In that case, it could be travelling the world looking for a new host. That is best case, though."

"What's worst case?" Dean asked intently.

Locke inhaled deeply. "Worst case is the Necromancers managed to bind it before Kinna… Any of their particular… flavor… of magic users would be able to unlock the power of the Spirit and use it to their purpose. That is bad news on many levels. We believe that if The Mother were to acquire this… because she has been cast in Limbo for eons, she was unable to grow her own power. Walking Earth builds her powers and she does grow more powerful every day she is here. But, with Spirit, it would be akin to her building her power over the course of those eons in the matter of hours."

Dean threw the piece of chicken down on the plate in disgust. He leaned back in the chair once more and his eye narrowed. "How are you… Are you telling me you know this and you still want to stay neutral in this? You can't be Switzerland when the whole planet is at risk! You can't just fence sit through ANOTHER Apocalypse."

"Dean, we have remained neutral through many events deemed apocalyptic. We have seen whole civilizations fall through the actions of the Spirit World. We have seen things that made us disgusted and still we held to neutrality. We have a purpose and no matter how many people have died, how many cultures have disappeared, we have to remain to fulfill that purpose." She lifted a hand to forestall an outcry of disapproval she knew would come. Dean, if Kinna was correct, was not intended to remain neutral. He as in the thick of this thing and she knew she could not sway him to even consider the sacrifices Druids had made to hold true to their mandate. "I know, Dean. I know it isn't right in your sensibilities. You have a purpose that is as important as ours but it is empowered by your passion and sense of right and wrong." She covered her eyes in a silent prayer that the gods knew what they were doing. She prayed she was doing right. She rose to walk to the opening from the kitchen to the living room area.

"Sam," she said tiredly. "I am going to need a ride to D_ílseacht. The memorial is tonight and they all have left me." Sam nodded. She turned to leave up the stairs. Sam watched her go and turned back to regard his brother. He had that look on his face that signaled to Sam that he was working through risk analysis of choices he made or will make._

_Dean caught his brother's scrutiny and shook himself free of his reverie. "Where does she need to go?" _

_A/N: This was a lot of expository, I know. I am trying to set something up for Sam and Dean where this information may be relevant so bear with me. I like Locke and I want her to be able to say good-bye to Kinna. I think that I also kinda want the guys to see how these folks handle death. Sam already shows in earlier chap that he doesn't quite understand why Kinna is seen as a Seer and not a person, per se. The only one in the house who actually knows Kinna is Andy. Everyone sees her as a Seer because they don't really know her as a person. Sam and Dean aren't the kind of guys who stick around to see the aftermath of their work. I am trying to get them to see that it isn't always what they think it would be._


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

Dílseacht= Loyalty

**Chapter 15**

The sleek black car rumbled into the parking lot filled with vans, compact hybrids and motorcycles. Dean had to roll the Impala out onto the street outside Dílseacht to find parking. Though it hurt to move, he over-ruled Sam's objection that Dean drive to Lowell. Sam got out of the passenger seat and opened the door behind him to assist Ms. Locke out. She smiled wanly with lidded eyes and graciously accepted Sam's arm. Dean watched as Sam walked with the elegant woman and smirked at the sight. He grabbed his side and held it as he trailed behind them.

They approached the bar door and saw the sign that read, "Dúnta ar ócáid phríobháideach, Closed for Private Event". The house lights brightly lit the room. There were people of all ages and description that filled every available space. This was meant to be a memorial for Kinna and the other Druids who lost their lives, but people stood or sat in the bar, laughing, talking and drinking. Sam looked at Locke as they entered the room. She smiled and gripped Sam's arm as she steered them forward. Others noticed Locke and parted to make way for her, short nods or tentative smiles greeted her from the people who made eye contact with her. Several people rose from a crowded table. The one Sam and Dean had seen Kinna occupy the first night they came to the bar. Sam held a chair for Locke and backed up to stand with Dean. Dean leaned in with a sardonic grin on his face.

"Well done, Lancelot." Dean mocked. Sam just cast a look at his brother that seemed to say, _screw you, Dean_. Dean just chuckled lightly, his smile changing to a grimace of pain.

Suddenly, Morgan was next to them. "Dean, you should be in bed." He looked at Dean's hand putting light pressure to his side. Morgan didn't comment or ask permission, but placed his hand on Dean and exerted a small amount of his own ability. Dean's eyes widened as much in surprise as in relief. Morgan smiled at the brothers and leaned over to whisper in a nearby woman's ear. The woman looked up and behind Morgan to make eye contact with the brothers before she rose and offered Dean her seat.

"Nah." Dean refused. "I'm good. You go ahead and…" She shook her head and touched Dean on the upper arm. She walked away as Morgan used his body and proximity to move Dean to the chair. Sam reached to help his brother when a definite hiss of pain escaped him. He leaned down to sit. Dean looked around at the table companions sheepishly with an embarrassed smile. The others acknowledged Dean and Sam with either looks of awe or amusement. Dean just wanted to fade away into the background. He didn't like being singled out. Sam hid his own amusement at his brother's discomfiture behind a hand to his face.

The conversations and socializing began to quiet down when some young men ascended to the stage followed by an older man with a graying beard and a dark grey business suit. The older man was followed by a young man in a white button up with a mandarin collar and black slacks. The older man coughed into the microphone to pull all remaining eyes to him. He began speaking in Gaelic or Irish. Dean looked up at him with a glazed expression, but when he looked about at the others, he realized he was really the only one besides Sam who didn't understand what he was saying. Many of his companions nodded or smiled as the man spoke. Then, the younger man stood to the microphone and began speaking.

"We meet today in an ancient tradition. We celebrate the lives of loved ones, friends or family, who have departed the life they lived here in this place. They have gone underground to reside with their departed loved ones and will live on in that place. We have celebrations in store for you all that we might rejoice for our friends."

Andy walked onto the stage. He plugged in his guitar to the amplifier. All voices were quiet and all eyes were on the bard. Andy played the instrumental introduction of an old Irish lament but seemed to pick up the tempo making it new and comforting. He came to the body of the ballad and he lifted his voice to sing sadly in Gaelic as he presented an updated version of ancient lyrics. His audience sat in rapt attention. There were some faces surrounding them that were moistened with tears and Sam could hear some muffled sobs over the angelic voice of the young man. Andy came to the end of the ballad, but continued to play an instrumental that seemed to mix a familiar song that tickled Dean's memory, new melody mixed with the ancient. Dean suddenly realized why the song was so familiar. Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" was slowed down slightly to be woven into the Celtic melody even as the ancient air was sped up. The production of the two songs interwoven was beautiful and heartrending. Andy completed the song with a dramatic flourish and the entire audience showed their appreciation with standing and shouts. Andy bowed humbly and unplugged his instrument to leave the stage. A young woman took his place with another young man playing a mandolin.

Dean's eyes began to droop as the slow and melodic song taken up by the woman lulled him. Sam noticed his brother's state of being and leaned forward to speak into Locke's ear. She glanced over at Dean nodding in his chair. She looked back up into Sam's soulful eyes and nodded lifting her hand to invite him to lean down once more. She spoke into his ear, "I will ride with my children. We will be here a long while yet and then, some of us will go to her graveside."

Sam looked at her quizzically. There was no body that he had discovered when he went back after Dean woke up. What were they planning on burying? She noticed the question in Sam's eyes and waved him off with a smile.

Sam woke his brother and walked him out of the bar. Some of the people they passed looked up and smiled at the brothers as they passed. Some of the widened eyes followed them as they passed until they went from the building. Those people standing in the room moved to allow them passage. They had the same looks of awe that some of Dean's table companions had. Dean felt his skin crawl at the attention.

Sam and Dean made their way slowly to the Impala. They were crossing through the silent lot and they heard their names from behind them. Sam paused to look back and Dean leaned against his brother as they stood. Andy came walking up, his hands deep in the pockets of his grey hoodie, hood pulled over his head. Sam could hear him sniff as he approached. When Andy reached the brothers, Sam waited for Andy to speak with his head tilted and trademark expression of compassionate concern. Andy's eyes never met either one of the Winchesters'. He looked at his booted feet and the cars on the street. He looked anywhere but into the faces of the two Hunters.

"Yeah, well…" Dean said as he leaned more heavily on Sam. "As riveting as this conversation is… I think we have places to be." Dean began to walk toward his car, listing slightly.

"Dean…" Andy began. He shifted from foot to foot and swiveled his body uncomfortably. "I need to…"

Dean stopped moving and turned to face the Bard, his eyes weary and resigned. Andy straightened, facing the Hunters. He sighed deeply.

"I need to thank you… both of you. You…" Andy coughed and brushed his hands over his face.

"Andy, you don't.. we didn't do anything to…" Sam stammered.

"What Mr. Articulate here is trying to say," Dean interrupted softly, "Is we weren't able to save Kinna. Don't thank us for anything."

Andy was suddenly still, statue still. The two men locked eyes, green to sad blood-shot. A smile began to form on Andy's face. "We don't cry because she died…" He said.

Dean furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes. Andy continued. "We cry because we will miss her. We mourn the piece of us that is gone from our lives. She's not… anyway," Andy chuckled. "Thank you. You two are so different. Not just about the black and white. You guys really are about helping people, aren't you? You really are good people helping us. She knows that about you, doesn't she? She knows that you guys are not the same as others."

Sam went to stand next to his brother. They both had noticed Andy's use of tense. "Andy…" Sam asked softly, "Have you… seen Kinna… since she died?"

Andy hesitated and his smile faded briefly. He looked away and then returned their gaze. "Well, travel safe, guys. We will be leaving soon anyway. If you need us, for anything, we'll be in Oregon."

"Oregon?" The brothers asked simultaneously.

Andy's smile grew even larger. The Hunters looked sheepish. Andy answered the question the Winchesters didn't ask. "Oregon is the center of the Circle here in America. Some of us are returning to Anglesea, but a bunch of us will go with Ms. Locke to Salem. I owe you guys…" Andy's voice cracked. He looked away.

Sam walked closer to Andy. Andy pulled away a little, taking a step back, but not looking at Sam. "We're sorry." Sam said in a hoarse whisper.

Andy nodded, but kept his eyes averted. "You were there." Andy croaked. "She wasn't alone."

Sam looked over at his brother. They locked eyes and a wealth of information passed between them. Andy turned with his head bowed and began to walk back to the bar. He quickened his step until the brothers watched as he disappeared into the building. They turned and found the Impala, Dean sliding tiredly into the passenger seat and Sam climbed into the driver's. Dean was asleep before they hit the highway.

They stepped into the empty house in Framington. Dean sat on the couch in the living room while his brother was upstairs packing up their stuff. He had begun to space a little and started to fall asleep. He jerked awake at a sound nearby.

"Sam?" Dean called tentatively. No answer. Dean looked around but didn't hear the sound again. He shrugged and closed his eyes. He felt the sense of a person nearby and opened his eyes, expecting to see his brother. He came face to face with a small woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes. "Kinna?" Dean gasped.

She smiled. Dean stood shakily and moved around the sofa, keeping the piece of furniture between himself and the apparition. "Sam!" Dean shouted. He heard his brother tromp down the stairs. Sam stopped and looked at the woman. He glanced into his brother's eyes and saw the anxiety Dean always tried to hide.

"Dean?" Sam called with warning dripping in his voice.

"Relax, gentlemen." Kinna said. "We aren't going to harm you."

"We?" Dean asked. Kinna smiled and her eyes demurred.

"The Druids and the Necromancers fought to wrest us from our body. Kinna held on to us, held on tight and wouldn't let us go. We are glad she chose to fight for us. Imagine how much would have been lost to the world if we had been taken by Necromancers. We would have survived for millennia to have been shoved in a box and never… We have work yet to do." She walked closer to Dean and the Hunter backed up to the fireplace. He reached behind him as he approached the stand holding the fireplace tools. Kinna sat on the couch. She patted the couch for Dean to sit next to her.

"Nah, I'm good." He smirked. Kinna just smiled deeply and stretched back into the floral cushions. Dean grasped the handle of the poker making the other tools clink together slightly.

"So…" Dean temporized, "Who are you, if not Kinna? And where did she go?"

"We are all here. Kinna, too." She said. She smirked and shook her head. "You won't need that, Dean." Kinna lifted her hand and the iron poker flew to embed itself into the wall. "Sit down." She said firmly. She turned to regard Sam. "Come in, Sam. Come and sit with us."

Sam swallowed and edged into the room. Kinna watched as Dean slowly moved to sit in an over-sized arm chair across from Kinna.

"We aren't here to harm you, guys." Kinna laughed.

"Who exactly are you?" Sam asked as he sat down on the arm of the chair next to his brother.

Kinna shrugged and she tilted her head sideways self-depreciatively.

"You're not really Kinna… " Dean said.

Kinna sighed and her smile diminished. Her demeanor shifted rapidly and her voice softened. "I am."

Sam and Dean both leaned back and looked at each other, sharing worlds of meaning, their eyes wide. _Yeah, that's not weird_.

Kinna began to fidget. She no longer had the self-confident air about her. She looked like a 19 year old kid. She was the girl they saw in the bar that night, in the diner sitting with her boyfriend, the one that they saw at the Yale Library. But, they remembered… she died.

"Aren't you…" Dean looked at his brother and back at the girl. He gave her a hesitant smile, nearly embarrassed as he spoke, "You know…"

"Dead?" Kinna supplied. Her eyes were cast downward and she spoke in a quiet voice.

"Um…" Dean said. "Yeah?"

Kinna drew in a deep breath and released it. "Death doesn't really mean anything… Not to druids. We don't… go to heaven… we don't go to hell. We are, kinda, outside those… rules."

"So, you're dead and not dead?" Dean asked

Kinna shook her head. "No, I'm dead."

The brothers were struck silent for a moment. Dean scrubbed his face and he closed his eyes. _Fan-fuckin-tastic!_

"So…" Sam chimed in.

Kinna coughed and lifted her clear blue eyes to meet Sam's hazel. "We feel like… this is the best the situation can grant us. We are free of mortality and may still roam the world increasing Knowledge. We are Spirit, Kinna… all Seers from the past are here. We stopped the Necromancers… for now… at the cost of our host. The struggle between the two powers was … incredible. But, Kinna was very strong." A smile lifted Kinna's features from pretty to radiant. "We aren't interested in the struggle between Heaven and Hell, or what the Mother is doing. We are only interested in learning more."

Her disposition altered once more. It was like she struggled within herself. The Kinna part of her struggling with the part of her that is the Spirit. "The civil war in Heaven is a distraction." She said in a calm and sweet voice. Kinna stared at Dean's green eyes, willing him to believe her. ""You have to tell your friends, Dean. It could cost them Creation because they are not focused on the true conflict."

Dean felt his blood run cold.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of the Supernatural TV stuff. It's all Kripke and CW. Lucky them. Voynich Manuscripts can be googled and much of the crazy writing and pictures can be seen in the wise and wonderful Wiki. I take great liberties and license with the beliefs of ancient and modern day druids. Kinna refers to Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. Now, I recognize that this challenged Judeo-Christian belief systems. I do this a lot this story, but since I am neither Jewish nor Christian, understand this is fiction and as Puck said,

"If we shadows have offended,  
Think but this, and all is mended,  
That you have but slumber'd here  
While these visions did appear.  
And this weak and idle theme,  
No more yielding but a dream,  
Gentles, do not reprehend:  
if you pardon, we will mend:  
And, as I am an honest Puck,  
If we have unearned luck  
Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue,  
We will make amends ere long;  
Else the Puck a liar call;  
So, good night unto you all.  
Give me your hands, if we be friends,  
And Robin shall restore amends."

End monologue "A Midsummer Night's Dream" - Puck

**A/N:** There are spoilers for Season 6 littered throughout.

**Chapter 16**

The two brothers looked at the dead girl across from them. She looked damn corporeal. She seemed very real.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked her.

"I am trying to hold on to who I am in this…"she said as she indicated her body, her voice wavering. She looked down at her hands folded into her lap. "I think this must be what it's like to have dissociative identity disorder." She laughed, her eyes raising up to regard the men. "Except they whisper to me all the time. They tell me things. They feel things. And sometimes, what they feel is in contradiction with what the others feel." She grimaced.

"Like Deadpool." Dean quipped.

Kinna tilted her head. She didn't understand the reference. Dean's smile faded.

"You said the civil war was a distraction." Sam prompted ignoring Dean.

Kinna nodded. "We know because we have seen Mother work before. They tried during the 5th century, they tried in around 1150 BC. They tried to stop us, to pull us from our host. This was the closest they have ever come to trapping us."Kinna smiled and then laughed. "Now, if we had thought that becoming less… well, mortal would have stopped the spell from working, we would have done this centuries ago."

Kinna rose and began pacing. "The manuscript that Kinna translated was from the European Dark Ages. We put it down on paper hoping we would be able to stop this coming in the future… or present?" Kinna stopped in front of them. Dean kept flinching back as Kinna grew closer in her pacing. She noticed it but ignored it. She began moving again. She was agitated. The various incarnations inside her warred with how to handle these two men.

"The tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden, you know the story, right?"

The men nodded. "That Spirit of Knowledge created the First Seer of the people who consumed the original fruit. That Spirit is here now and can no longer move from Seer to Seer. We are together now. We maintain the Balance between good and evil, chaos and order, Heaven and Hell, human and monster." She looked at the brothers. She could feel the protestations begin within her. The others were struggling for control. She tightened her eyes shut and held her hand to her forehead as if in pain. She appeared to breathe heavily.

She began muttering under her breath as she paced. "The Necromancers are gone, for now…" She muttered. "We need to convince them to stay and track down the enemies… but, they are gone from here. What do we need of Hunters? The manuscript displays enough for the others to do what is necessary. They will be gone soon." She gripped her head. Kinna was unable to separate the voices and identify her voice among the many. She muttered and continued pacing. "The Bereft should be destroyed so the gambit will be lost. We don't have the right!" She allowed Spirit to take charge frequently but, she refused to allow Spirit full reign. She refused to allow Spirit to destroy one of these brothers. She knew that if they destroyed one, the other would rise against Balance and would not stop until they were completely destroyed, no matter the consequence of that action.

Kinna, still holding her head, turned to face the Hunters. She heard the other voices and disregarded their warning. She remembered how she saw this man when he arrived at this very house not so long ago. She remembered the feeling of trust that washed over her. He was a Knight-Protector. He was a weapon. Now, she could see the true form of the weapon. She recognized what Spirit had tried to show her. It was a rifle. It was a Winchester.

"Dean, you must call forth your friends. When the druids decide to hop off their fence, more souls than can be counted will rush to the side they choose. They will not choose Heaven if they can't stop arguing amongst themselves and focus on the true conflict." Kinna felt her middle wrench. The Seers of the past were rebelling against her. She grabbed her stomach and was about to fall to her knees when Sam reached out a hand in reflex to aid her. He grabbed her arm and lifted her up. When she was able to control the gut wrenching pain, she looked up with bright blue eyes to thank Sam for his help. The look of surprise and confusion that met her almost made her laugh.

"I'm dead, but not a spirit… or, not totally a spirit. We are more than Spirit but beyond mortality."She explained. She felt the end of the energy she had to remain corporeal. She felt her being drawn to another location, far from this house. She felt herself being drawn by love and devotion. She smiled and sighed.

"I have to leave. My friends are waiting for me." She expressed her astonishment at the strength of the feelings of her family and friends waiting for her at her gravesite. "Look into the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. The Mother can be found there as well as in Chaos." She looked into the eyes of both men. "Be very careful not to lose track of the souls." She could feel herself become less material, less _there_.

Sam and Dean watched as the woman who seemed so corporeal a moment ago became more translucent and luminous. They stood in front of her as she faded and they saw her smile before she was just gone.

"Let's get the Hell out of here, Sam." Dean said after a minute of silence between them.

A/N: Yes, it was a very short chapter compared to the others. I hope you don't mind. Please, let me know what you think. I may have one last chapter to wrap it up in a tight little bow… I hope.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N:** There are spoilers for Season 6 littered throughout.

**Chapter 17**

The large room was illuminated by lamps sitting on cluttered tables. The man and two women sat at straight-backed wooden chairs pouring over stacks of papers. The man held his head in his hand as he propped it up on the table, his red, bloodshot eyes scouring the papers in front of him. He huffed and looked up at the ceiling as he arched his back with a creek and click. His bones stretched from having been in the same position for so long.

"Trying to decipher Prophesy is hungry work. Anyone want to take a break?" He inquired of his companions.

Ms. Locke looked up into the younger man's eyes and then consulted her watch. "My word. It is well after 3:30. No wonder you're hungry. I propose we continue this later in the morning. We should get a few hours of sleep at the least."

Linda Wells looked up with droopy tired eyes at her former house mother. They had been in Salem, OR for just over a month and had been searching for answers in the manuscript that had cost so much. She still had nightmares about her captivity and the harrowing rescue by the Hunters, the Winchester brothers. Linda scrubbed her eyes and yawned, stretching. She glanced over at Malcolm Adair, the young man who arrived shortly after Ms. Locke and she came in from Massachusetts. The young Scot had flown in from London when the news had been spread about the Druids losing their Seer. Malcolm and Linda had found that they seemed to have similar sense of humor, interests and study. But, Linda had a hard time trusting him. The Druidic Circle didn't send him. The Council did, and that made his motivations suspect. His grandfather was well-known among druids and the supernatural in the UK as a vicious and dedicated Hunter.

She regarded Malcolm again as he spoke to Ms. Locke. She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. She didn't realize she was staring at him until he smiled tiredly at her with that crooked cocky grin. "Ay, now!" He said as he approached her. He offered her his hand. "Let's get you to your room, my darling. You look like you're reanimated." He immediately regretted his words as Linda shuttered and her eyes became wide. His lips became a taut straight line and his eyes narrowed then softened. He gently lifted her arm and she raised herself to a standing position. He could feel her tremors through her hand. _Malcolm, my lad, you are an idiot… certifiably an idiot_. He grimaced but continued with her to her quarters. The large converted motel had been appropriated for the Circle's use and had been partially funded by the Guardian Council. Since their interest is in what the Druids are doing in the US, Adair was sent to… consult. He was under no illusions. He was a spy. The druids, he thought, knew this as well.. Even without their Seer.

He stopped outside Ms. Wells rooms. He saw her smile briefly as she opened the door. He nodded his head to her as she closed it on him. _Yes. An idiot_.

Malcolm walked to his room and slowly entered. He began to feel the weariness of hours of research falling over him. He trudged to his bed and didn't even disrobe before lying down. He was staring at the ceiling, imagining how he could have been even bigger dolt while speaking to the beautiful Ms. Wells when a movement caught his peripheral vision. He slowly moved to pull a silver dagger from its sheath at his leg.

"That will not be necessary Malcolm Adair." A hollow voice seemed to echo. "We will not harm you." A slim figure emerged from shadows of the room. "What is it with Hunters anyway? Pull weapons first and ask questions later." The woman's voice became less hollow with that last remark and seemed to be laughing at him.

"If it's all the same to you," Malcolm responded, "I think that the pull weapons first instinct keeps us alive so, I am going to have to say it is preferable to the alternative."

The woman smirked at him. She was very attractive. He saw her dark hair shimmer slightly in the moonlight outside his window. Her pale skin seemed to be luminous in the even more pale light, washing her complexion to nearly blue-grey. Her eyes though. Her eyes were the palest blue, nearly crystal white. She smiled at him and her whole face seemed to beam.

"I don't think we've met." He charmed. He began to rise from his bed. His weapon was still in his hand, held lightly but expertly. He didn't approach her, but stood en guard, waiting for her to continue.

Her smile grew. "You are correct." She said lightly. She seemed to glide and elegantly seat herself at the cushioned wooden chair in the kitchenette. She looked at him expectantly. He crossed carefully to sit at the edge of the chair opposite her. He continued to hold his dagger. She seemed unfazed so he just continued being openly cautious.

"Did you have a purpose to this visit," he quipped, "Or is this a social call?"

She leaned back in the chair. "There are events coming to a nexus very soon and you of the Guardian Council need to coordinate with others you would not normally do. It will become imperative in the coming days." She sighed before going on with no trace left of the smile she sported moments ago. "There are creatures afoot that are controlled by the Black King and he soon will have access to an army such as none had seen. He will seek the aid of the Seelie and Unseelie. He will charge Heaven itself in his conquest. The Betrayer will seal the Fate of all Mankind but it will be the Rising Son who stops it."

"That is… really cryptic, Lady." He snarked. "You know, I thought the mystics among you druids were all in mourning or something… not taking an audience with anyone since, you know… the Seer being gone and all."

She grinned again. "The Seer is not gone."

He gaped at her. He leaned forward and his voice gained an edge to it that could have been a verbal duplicate for the silver weapon in his hand. His eyes narrowed. "Are you saying the Druids lied to the Council?"

She closed her eyes but her smile did not fade. "No."

"But, they said the Seer was dead and you just said Seer wasn't."

"No, I said the Seer wasn't gone. She is, however, very dead." She looked up at him again. Her bright eyes sparkled at him and her skin seemed to glow even more brightly. _Holy shit!_

"You…You're the Seer?" He stammered. He had heard that druids had magic similar to the witches. He had not expected this.

"I… was the Seer. I guess, I still am. My warning to you, Mr. Adair, is for the world. I do not wish my home to be destroyed in an apocalypse. But, I also don't want to see the monsters of Purgatory to reign, because that would amount to the same thing- My home destroyed in fire and war. The Hunters and magic wielders have a similar interest. I never did see that previously." She pursed her lips irritably before continuing. "Keep searching the manuscript. Cian the Lost wrote an answer there. The players have their names written large in the constellations of this world as well as in the stars of others. Contact the man known as Bobby Singer in this country. He can network with the Hunters here. He can lead you to the Rising Son."

She rose and walked to the window. She looked so corporeal. "My visions had been manipulated while I was alive." She whispered, almost to herself. "I think the Betrayer was responsible but I cannot be certain. I believe the answer to all the questions will be found there."

His eyebrow shot up in question. "Does it speak more plainly, you know.. less 'the Betrayer' and more 'John Smith'?"

She laughed at that, a tinkling bell sound. His smile was genuine. She was charming for a dead girl. "What exactly are we expecting to find in the manuscript?" He asked more seriously.

Cian had whispered to her about what he had seen and why he had written the spellbook. The manuscript was meant to help guide the druids in the days closing in on the Prophesy. The years since the triggering of apocalypse started the signs that told Spirit that it was coming. Spirit had shown her when she was twelve by sending her a vision of a chessboard with white and black pieces. Some pieces were missing and the little figures were interspersed on the board. She was able to have a clearer understanding of what was going on since she died. She looked at the Scottish Hunter.

"Tell the druids they must connect what Cian wrote in the manuscript with what they know of the pieces in the final conflict. Connect with American Hunters through Bobby Singer. Aid each other, Mr. Adair. Tell the Council in London that they are going to need to put aside generations of secrecy and unite. Do not let our home die in fire with claws and fangs taking the lives of the people we have all been sworn to protect." She smiled at him, walked to stand in front of him. She reached out her slender pale hand and touched his face. A tiny electrical shock startled him as her cold hand touched his cheek. He gazed into her bottomless blue eyes. He found himself holding his breath. She turned back to the shadowed corner in the room and her figure was enveloped in the darkness.

"Seer?" He called. He rose and went to the space. He nearly ran his face into the wall. He turned to the light on the side table next to his bed. He flipped the switch and looked around the small room. The Seer was gone, disappeared. Huh. Bobby Singer, huh?

END

A/N:

Look.

I know that it seems like I left it kind of hanging. I really like the idea of the two worlds of Hunters getting together and forming an alliance of some kind. Thought I'd like to write an Alternate Timeline/Universe fic where the Guardian Council gets together with the Hunters in the U.S. to fight the end of days. I like the idea that Kinna can show up anytime to send the Hunters in the direction she kind of sees needing them. The truth is… I have an idea I want to explore later. The Summer is coming soon, and I will have some time to write a lot more. I imagine battles in foresty areas where druids call on trees and vegetation to entangle Bad Guys up into their branches. I imagine city skirmishes where Hunters from U.K. and Hunters from U.S. partner up to bring down demons as they find based on information they get from the manuscripts. And where are Sam and Dean? Right, smack-dab in the middle of the whole shebang! They have to fight against demons who are backed by their favorite Angel and the poor Lemming-Angels following him, minions of Raphael, necromancers, other Hunters, the end of the world… you know… typical Friday night fare.


End file.
